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#acotar drabbles
redbleedingrose · 14 days
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Hello I looooooove your writing and I was wondering (If it's okay) if you can write a drabble/headcanons about our boy azzie
Like how would he act if he had a sweet and extremelyyyyy affectionate mate and someone who's shy but would call out som1's bs
I hope you have an AMAZING day 💗 u
Hiiii!!! I hope you are doing well! Thank you sm for the ask! Looks like this option on the poll won so I spent some time thinking about some headcanons for:
Azriel x Shy!Reader Headcanons
Azriel loves his shy little mate. It always bring a spark lighting up his darkness thinking about how he first met you. How you couldn't even make eye contact with him without nervously giggling. Az at his baseline is quiet, but he is confident. He knows that he is attractive, knows that he can take any male or lady to his bed. But from the moment he met you, its like his entire universe shifted to revolving around you. He spent the entire night trying to quietly converse with you and focus your attention on him. Any time you would shy away, avoiding his gaze, he would lean down to force eye contact, scarred hand tilting your chin up at him so his pretty hazel eyes could peer into yours. He was literally hooked, trying to pull your soft smiles. It took one night with you for him to want to bring you all the stars in the sky to your palm.
The male is constantly trying to woo you. Even after decades of being mated, Azriel continues to make an effort into your relationship, learning new things about you, picking up on your habits, and honestly... he just loves dating you. He loves taking you out on dates, sometimes out to Rita's for dancing, and sometimes on midnight flights to the valleys just outside of Velaris for a late picnic and stargazing. He would do literally anything just to see your eyes light up in joy from his effort and love.
He adores watching you get dressed up for him, smirking at your sharp stare at him to get out of the room so you can change, his eyes twinkling with mirth because you're still so modest after he has seen you countless times in your bare form.
In the mornings, he likes to silently sneak up to your shared bathroom door, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed against his chest, quietly observing you do your morning skincare and makeup. "Can I get some of that too doll?" He mumurs, wrapping a thick arm around your waist, turning you towards his gently. You stare up at him confused, rubbing your lips together, pressing in the cooling balm, "the lip balm?" you ask, head tilted to the side while you hold up the container at him. He silently nods, mischief flickering when you hum okay. Then he pulls your chin up before kissing you deeply, pulling away all too soon, "thanks dovey," while swaggering away smacking his lips, all confident and proud of himself.
Az brings you a fresh bouquet flowers all the time. He is the kind of male to keep on the flowers so that he can ensure he gets you another bouquet as soon as the old one starts to droop. Male has gone as far as taking your old bouquets and getting them pressed into frames so that you can hang them in your shared home. The walls of your mini library that he had specifically built for the both of you is filled with frames of all of the bouquets he has bought for you. Eventually, when you have your baby girl, her nursery is decorated with all those framed bouquets. It works out perfectly as your library walls were running out of room. And omg he is the kind of male to pick your favorite out of the bouquet and tuck it behind your ear while caressing ur cheek, looking at you like you have hung the moon and all the stars in the sky.
Speaking of your hair, Az brushes your hair ALL THE TIME. He is an act of services male at his core, and he wants to pamper you. The first time he saw you brushing your hair, his eyes nearly popped out from how rough you were being. Male now refuses to let you brush your own hair. He will settle you into his lap, his shadows swirling around the both of you, tickling your ankles while he combs your hair ever so gently, removing the knots with the utmost care, peppering kisses along your neck, cheeks and shoulders, and right at that tender spot behind your ear. Basically any skin that he can expose, he will and will lay the softest kiss to your perfect skin.
Azriel being spymaster gives him many skills. Skills like patience, creativity, and precision. And he uses those skills on you all the time. Especially when it comes to painting your nails for you. As mentioned previously, the male is an acts of service KING. He takes extra care to make sure the edges of your nails are smooth and clean, the designs he creates for you are different in style and technique. He obviously lets his shadows pick a different color every week for you, and that will be the theme for the rest of the week, when it comes to the colors of the flowers he gets you, to the pretty dress he saw in the market that he bought for your date night, to the dinner he makes for you both that week. Ugh love this male so much.
OMG and he is going to get on his knees for you. Anytime, anwhere, he will drop to his knees to tie your untied shoelaces. He is concerned his precious girl will fall over and bruise your skin. Oh, and he loves to help you put your heels on, kissing your ankles before getting up. Male worships the ground you walk on, I cannot BREATHE.
Azzie also has your coffee and drink order memorized. And he will absolutely go up to the front and get it changed for you if you don't like it or if they made it wrong, hushing your quiet pleas for him to sit back down with a soft kiss to your nose. He is very kind about it, will wait until the rush calms down to take drink back up and will tip extra to make sure he isn’t stepping on any toes, but is firm that they messed up his girls drink, and that needs to be fixed. We love a strong confident dominant male.
Unfortunately, being spymaster, Azriel is a very busy male. All his free time is spent with you, or on you, but he does have to work from time to time. Not to worry though, his shadows like to keep you company, especially when their master is not too far; being in his office working on paper work or out with Cassian training. They all crave your attention, fighting over which one can bring you your drink and which ones can play with your hair. Every 15 minutes, they are rushing back to their master to report back on you and whine about how one shadow is stealing all your attention.
Children, those little shadows.
Speaking of Azriel's free time, watching you do your hobbies is HIS favorite hobby. Weather you are basking in the sun while reading, to watching the crinkle in your eyebrows furrow further while you write, to watching you purse your lips while you taste the tart in the lemon curd you are making for dessert. He could sit back and watch you for hours and feel completely at rest and at peace, shadows singing in the background and soul buzzing along to their song.
He will climb into your shared bed to do his paperwork next to you while you sleep, especially if it has been a while of him sitting in the office and he feels like he has hit a wall. He will often working single handedly because he wants to hold your hand all night long, feeling much more motivated to protect Velaris with you at his side. He has something worth working for, worth protecting.
Neither of you are big fans of PDA, but that does not mean Azriel will go without touching you. He wants to make sure everyone knows who yo belong to… and moreso, who he belongs to. Male loves for people to know he is TAKEN.
Cannot get enough of when you get a little protective over him, seeing as that male across Rita’s has been eyeing him throughout the entire night. So while you and him go up to the bar for more drinks, you squeeze his tight ass in view of that male, and everyone else, to see. Azriel is thoroughly amused, a thrill shivering through his wings as he smirks down at you while you avoid his gaze, chin up in defiance as a hot flash runs through you.
Don’t worry though, he is not afraid to wrap his thick arm around your neck and pull you into his side with a soft kiss to your temple, hazel eyes adoringly tracing your soft features. He also guides you with his hand resting at the small of your back through the crowd, and ugh does it get you heated.
Anyway... I am tired of writing but I probs have more to add to this headcanon later so part 2 maybe??
Check out more of my writing!
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tadpolesonalgae · 2 months
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Throwing your shoe at them—headcanons
a/n: maybe had a little too much fun creating these scenarios, oops (again, thank you 🩰)
warnings: all round suggestiveness, hinted somnophilia w/ Eris, slight ‘enemies to loves’ vibes with Lucien
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Azriel:
“The last time your legs were shaking this badly—”
“Don’t you dare.” You hiss, glaring up at him with fire blazing in your eyes from where you’re lying on the floor, downed by the exercises he put you through.
He crouches at your side, the heel of his palm pressed leisurely against his cheek, glancing down at you smugly, a glint in his hazel eyes.
“I thought you liked it when I pushed you over that edge,” he muses, that obnoxiously prideful look on his features.
Outrage pounds through your blood as you stare up at him with an open mouth.
He raises a provoking brow, a smirk curving his mouth. “Continuously.”
“You shut your mouth, Shadowsinger,” you snap, hands tightening into fists as you try to get to your feet. “I’m done for the day.”
He huff a low laugh, getting to his feet. “Five more. Then we can stop.”
He pauses, turning to glance at you over his shoulder, a smug grin on his mouth. “I could make you do more, if I wanted.”
The boot is off your foot and flying through the air before either of you can blink, and his shadows seem to intentionally dart away, allowing it to pass into his personal space.
Azriel catches it—barely in time—shooting a fed-up glance to his shadows, that has a spark of triumph lighting in your chest.
His attention switches to you, marking your expression, something hungry flitting through his gaze, wings flaring slightly at his back with male interest. Then his mouth curves at the edges, tossing the boot back, turning to stand beside you, again crouching down.
“Fine. You want to be a brat, that’s fine,” he murmurs lowly, having heat unspool in your lower abdomen. “But you’re doing ten more. Then I’ll really make your legs shake.”
Cassian:
“I think this one will look lovely,” Cassian remarks, holding up the red dress with a deep cut down the neckline that plunges to the base of your sternum.
“The colour won’t go with my earrings,” you reason, holding up the gold and emerald earrings you’d picked out for the night, appropriate for the dinner being held at Spring—making efforts to mend relations after centuries of unfriendly silence.
“I was thinking for me, actually,” Cassian counters, holding the lovely fabric up to himself, splaying out the skirts.
You pause, fingers poised to set the clip into your hair, before setting it down and turning to him. “Cassian…” you begin slowly, “I’m sure you’d look wonderful, but that was given to me by Mor, so you will not be getting your hands on it. You’d rip it to shreds.”
“Maybe if it was on you,” he returns lowly, eyes taking on a hungry gleam, dress lowering as his mind wanders elsewhere.
“Keep it to yourself,” you laugh, “we have a dinner to go to tonight, and I need to get ready.”
“I know something you could do a lipstick test on.”
You gape at him. “And where did that come from?”
“I listen to the things you talk about,” he counters, putting the dress aside as he walks over to you, sat prettily at your vanity. “I pay attention to every single word that comes from that lovely mouth of yours.”
You flush, something about his tone having heat warming your lower abdomen.
He smirks, leaning closer, bracing one hand on your vanity, the other on the back of your chair. “Every, filthy, word.”
Laughter breaks from your chest, grabbing one of the slippers you’d been trying to sew a pattern onto and throwing it at him. “I’m serious, Cass! I need to get ready. Don’t try to distract me.”
He chuckles, standing up, stepping back with a smile in his eyes. “Alright, alright,” he says, holding his hands up as he retreats. “I’ll let you get on with your routine.”
You roll your eyes, but return to the mirror, a smile warming your mouth.
“I’ll save the teasing for dinner.”
Eris:
Sunlight burns into your lids, and you groan, shoving your head under the pillow. “Eris please, I’m begging you to learn the concept of sleeping in,” you moan, pulling the cushion tighter as you snuggle beneath the duvet.
“If the sun’s up, so should you be,” he reminds, coming to a stop at the side of the bed, trying to pry the pillow from your clutched fingers, having to rip it away, making you whine, shying from the light.
“It’s not that bad,” he mutters fondly, pulling the duvet back and you make a show of shivering, his rosey lips cutting up faintly at the corners. “Maybe if you weren’t reading so late into the night this would be easier for you.”
You glare up at him, curling tight into a ball to preserve as much warmth as you can, rolling into the heat of the soft mattress. “Maybe if you didn’t get up so early you’d be able to stand late nights,” you grumble, finally getting up as he walks away.
“You know, early mornings wouldn’t be so awful if it was something else getting up with the sun,” you muse, legs swinging over the side, feet sliding into warm slippers.
“We both know you’d be drooling all over the place and half asleep,” he scoffs, back to you as he glances through your wardrobe.
You gasp, brows pulling together in an offended fashion, grabbing a slipper and launching it across the room, watching with distinct satisfaction as it smacks into the back of his head.
Eris pauses, as if registering what happened, before he glances over his shoulder, looking down at the shoe, then back to you. Unimpressed. “Am I wrong?”
You huff, folding your arms over your chest indignantly. “Maybe I’d like that…”
Eris stiffens, arms pausing as the confession slinks down his spine. “Maybe you’d like that,” he repeats quietly, taking a moment to comprehend.
Then he nods to himself, turning to peer at you over a broad shoulder, a mischievous gleam in his swirling amber eyes.
“Perhaps we’ll try that out…”
Lucien:
“You didn’t have to do that,” you say slightly tersely.
“He didn’t have to put his hand on your waist, either,” Lucien counters smoothly, but the tightness to his jaw belies his casual calm.
You look away, posture rigid as he walks you toward your chambers, escorting you politely. “I thought he was rather dashing,” you muse lightly, watching through your peripherals.
“Is that so?” He muses with equal lightness. “I think your standards should be raised. At least higher than a limbo bar.”
“Is that a hint of jealousy, Vanserra?” You remark, keeping your gaze off him as you open the door, allowing him entrance as you walk further into the room.
“Not in the slightest,” he drawls, though you can feel his gaze burning into your back. “Rather, I had assumed you were a lady of substance.”
“And what’s that supposed to mean?” You ask, not quite able to keep the snappiness from your tone.
“If all it takes is a light touch to your waist to prepare you for bed…” he responds lowly, and you’re able to hear the smirk on his mouth.
“Finish that sentence, Vanserra,” you say sharply, turning to where he’s stood by the door. “I dare you.”
His lips quirk, gaze a little more intense than before, and a surprising heat blossoms across your skin as he practically strips you naked, his eyes sweeping over you.
“I think your mind will provide ample endings there,” he remarks lowly, the light catching on the sharp canines that have dragged over your shoulder.
You seethe, nails biting into your palms as you glare at him from across the room. “You should learn when to keep your mouth shut.”
“I think you enjoyed my mouth being open.”
The heel shoots across the room with such force it thuds against the swiftly closed doors, being thrown hard enough to almost lodge into the ornately carved wood.
You hear him chuckling in the hall, thighs pressing together at the delicious sound.
“If you’re in need of a reminder…” he calls through the door, and you throw the other shoe, this one indeed lodging in the wood, calling another low laugh from his chest as he at last leaves you to your own devices.
Leaving your blood boiling and a flustered heat over your cheeks, traitorous arousal warming between your things.
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general taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @amygdtjhddzvb @sfhsgrad-blog @needylilgal022 @hannzoaks @hnyclover @skyesayshi @nyotamalfoy
az taglist: @azrielshadows1nger
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elliemarchetti · 2 months
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Gwynriel Weeks Day 3
I really wanted to participate in this year’s @gwynrielweeksofficial, but since at the moment my free time is decidedly limited I opted for writing a collection of drabbles, a story that can be read all together or as standalones. I don’t know how many chapters I will actually be able to publish, but I present you the first, set after ACOSF and whatever happened in the last CC book (I haven’t read that saga and I don’t intend to, so I don’t know if the timeline is right)
Prompt: Confessions
Warnings: Angst
Words: 625
"I thought about you while you were gone."
Gwyn’s soft voice broke the comfortable silence, making him wince. Her words hit harder than any blow he ever received in his long life as a warrior, striking straight to the heart. He had found her on the stands of the training arena, her hair down, her feet bare and only a light nightgown to cover her slender body. The full moon made her look like a forgotten goddess he wanted to worship, a physical reaction that reminded him why he had to stay away.
“I feared you wouldn’t come back,” she went on, her usual sweet smell mixing with that of the alcohol she previously drank. Her teal eyes were wide, but uncharacteristically veiled with sadness, as if she still didn’t believe he was real and alive, next to her in the dark. Ever since Azriel had returned to the Night Court, they had never been alone. He had made up all sorts of excuses to postpone their private training sessions, and when she was with the Valkyries, he had let Cassian lead her training, for every moment he spent too close was a suffering, a test of his honour and morals.
“Do you want me to escort you inside?” he asked, when the absence of her words became too much to bear, ready to offer his jacket to cover her figure on the short journey. While he was on his mission, he had a lot of time to ponder. He usually liked the solitude, to be away from useless chatter and invasive questions, but the sound of Gwyn’s voice was music, the only thing capable of silencing the constant buzz of his thoughts and the fussing of his shadows. He had missed her incredibly, and when he saw her again with the other priestesses, the breath had left his lungs, making him gasp and eager to hold her in his arms, something he never did before and certainly couldn’t do at the moment, out of the blue.
In response to his question, Gwyn simply shook her head, the long hair escaping from behind her left ear, framing her face like a burnished cascade. For an instant, Azriel deluded himself that they were the only beings still existing in the world, light and shadow colliding with the stars as their only witnesses. He had to resist the impulse to retreat when she touched the tips of his flame-torn fingers with her own, smooth and tapered, and he had to will his instinct to not drag her on top of him and fuck her senseless. He wasn’t like those beasts who had violated her, but he was rough, and flawed and…
She’s about to kiss you, purred one of his shadows, the sound audible to him only. It was true, and as much as he had to, Azriel didn't stop it from happening. He responded to the delicate peck on his full lips as if he were afraid he might break her just by moving too fast, and he followed her lead with the fluidity of a centuries old spy.
“I’m sure Lady Elain is more capable than me, but after all the apprehension of the past few weeks, I had to do it,” she murmured when they finally parted, and something in Azriel broke. His detachment capitulated like the walls of a conquered city, and decades of repression resurfaced, freezing him in place. He watched her walk away, her back straighter than he would’ve expected, her pride intact. She was a force of the nature, incapable of regret, unaware that she had just left ruins and destruction in her wake.
“I thought of you too,” he whispered to no one, the words lost in the wind.
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ofduskanddreams · 9 months
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Give Over To The Fall
For Anon. The ask: Morlain, canon-verse, girls' night out at Rita's turns to something more ❤️
Mor x Elain ✦ Rated T ✦ 960 words ✦ on AO3
The golden light of the rapidly setting sun cast Elain’s room in shades of apricot and vermillion as she stared down her reflection, hands braced on her hips. 
The dress was beautiful, a rich amethyst silk that made her glow with the contrast between fabric and skin. It was also the most revealing thing she’d ever worn. The neckline dropped halfway to her sternum, and the straps were thinner than a finger’s span. Then there were the slits: one on each side cut to mid thigh so every step she took revealed a long swath of leg.
When she returned, during those first few months being fae, Elain refused to look in mirrors. She couldn’t bear to see the evidence of what she knew to be true—the face as perfect as a porcelain doll’s, the arched ears, the richer color of her now-thicker hair. That she stood here, alone in her room and staring at her reflection, hair tucked behind her ears, and was focused on the gown instead of the person wearing it was a remarkable difference.
She’d grown used to being fae in the year since Nyx’s birth, had grown into the person she was now. Elain led a pleasant life. She had the river house gardens and her greenhouse there where she kept her experiments; she had the community gardens scattered throughout Velaris which she oversaw. She had afternoons in the shade of the willows by the river with a good book or her sister and toddling nephew. It was nice, comfortable, and yet Elain couldn’t help feeling like there had to be more. 
It was this oddly conspicuous absence for a thing she pointedly missed but had never known which led her into this dress and prompted her to stand before the mirror. It was why she’d accepted an invitation that had been offered to her countless times before but always rejected. Elain was going out… to Rita’s… with Mor.
With a huff of disbelieving laughter at the thought, Elain turned away from her reflection, grabbed her small handbag, and left the room.
✦ ✦ ✦
The music resonated in her bones, beating in time with her heart. Elain was incandescent. Faelights swirled around the ceiling, washing Rita’s in a riot of magenta and blue. Bodies undulated all around her, arms raised to keep their drinks from spilling. The crowded dance floor absorbed her, claimed her as one of the many and swept her away and it was brilliant. Elain couldn’t remember a time when she’d felt more alive than she did right now.
A warm hand on her elbow, the scent of citrus and spice enveloping her as Morrigan dodged an over-excited elbow to face her.
Mor’s lips moved but Elain heard only music.
“What?” she asked, raising her voice and leaning in.
Blood-red lips parted in one of the brilliant smiles that Elain had been weathering this evening, one of those smiles that made her cheeks warm and her pulse speed.
Then Mor was touching her again, drawing her closer and out of the way of a group making their way toward the bar. 
“I was trying to apologize for leaving you on your own for so long,” Mor told her, close enough that Elain could feel the words on the shell of her ear.
Feyre and Nesta had both bowed out of coming tonight, and Mor had run into some old friends when they’d arrived. 
“I didn’t mind!” Elain laughed, surprised because it was true. “Did your friends leave?”
Mor nodded, brows slightly pinched as she scanned Elain’s face for any sign of a lie. 
“Mor,” Elain shifted even further into her space so she could speak without half-shouting. The scant inches of air between them thrummed with something that settled in her veins like champagne. “I mean it, I really didn’t mind. This is fun. I’m having fun.”
And she was, truly, for the first time in what felt like a lifetime. Here, in the blur of dancing bodies and roaming lights, Elain was just another female. She wasn’t the High Lady’s sister; she wasn’t the Seer, wasn’t anyone, and because of that she was free. 
Free to take Mor’s hand and lead her towards the center of the floor where the crowd was thickest. Free to let her eyes wander the gorgeous female as the two of them danced. It had been a slow dawning, the realization that her admiration for women and females went beyond the aesthetic and reached into the realm of desire. It was because of Mor, actually, that Elain learned this about herself. 
Lithe muscle and soft curves draped in swathes of midnight blue, glowing skin, that sheet of golden hair that smelled faintly of sage and shone like sunshine, those gleaming walnut eyes, her rich warm laugh—everything about Mor drew her in, like a flower facing the midday light. So Elain didn’t let herself think, only feel.
She reveled in feeling the slide of fabric against smooth skin beneath her palm as the music turned sultry. Elain savored the way Mor’s eyes lingered on her pulse, then tracked a bead of sweat trailing down her throat between the valley of her breasts and out of sight. Mor’s attention was far more intoxicating than the glass of wine Elain drank upon her arrival. 
Mor was the moon and Elain was the tide caught in her pull, drawing closer and closer with every heated glance and shock of delighted laughter until the crowd was thinning, the music slowing. It was then, with Mor’s gaze darting down to her lips every other moment, that Elain gave herself over to the fall.
Kissing Mor, swallowing her gasp of surprise and hum of pleasure—it was like finally coming up for air.
💕 💕 💕
tagging: @ablogofsapphicpanic @damedechance @octobers-veryown @krem-does-stuff @ultadverb @thesistersarcheron @iftheshoef1tz @thelovelymadone @moonpatroclus @foundress0fnothing@panicatthenightcourt @areyoudreaminof @talons-and-teeth
Sorry if I missed you, I've never written Morlain before so this is a shot-in-the-dark tag list lol. If you want to be added to/removed from my Morlain tags let me know because I have more for them coming in the future.
A/N: This is the only drabble I will be posting tonight, but from the state of my ask box I can tell you we are in for a delightful weekend :)
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asnowfern · 1 year
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Drabbles Master List
Elucien🦊🦌🌻
Home
Cliffs Edge
Waiting on your badges by the phone
Weightless
We’ll be alright
Nessian⚔️🔥
Ghosts that broke my heart before you
Angels Like You
Just a little closer
Everything is fine when your hand is next to mine
Nessian family drabble series🦇💖
It's just for tonight
I take care of papa too
Dancing with the world in my hands
Feysand🌌🌃
When The Sun Goes Down
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utterlyotterlyx · 25 days
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18 with Azriel because mans is taaaaall
Little Thing
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Summary - Azriel loves finding any reason to hold you, his height restricted mate, in his arms, and isn't ashamed to admit it.
Warnings - absolutely none really, slight swearing, just Az fluff x 1000
"I've been breaking my back to kiss you."
"I'm not that fucking short."
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The weight that occasionally pressed against the tips of his toes had become something he found endearing, because it meant that you were trying with all of your might to kiss him by using his feet as leverage to boost your own height.
Azriel was abnormally tall, his six foot seven to your five foot three was the source of copious amounts of teasing from your shared family, mostly from Cassian who always questioned aloud how Azriel fit inside of you, like it was all he thought about whenever he looked at the two of you.
"Would you like to watch since you're so intrigued about our sex life, Cass?"
"I, uh-," Cassian had stuttered that chill afternoon, the stars had blanketed across the sky, and you were stood in the centre of the lounge in your floor length skirt which only reached Azriel's knees, (he'd tried it on one day much to your delight); you were tapping your foot against the wooden floor, eyebrow arched and waiting for a real answer, "No."
Azriel had to give it to Cassian, and Rhys, and well anyone who questioned how Azriel, the brother with the largest wingspan, managed to fit inside of you. Cassian said often that his cock must rearrange your insides and he was surprised how you could walk around after your nights, mornings, and afternoons together, let alone go to work and live a normal life.
"Thought not. Shame, you could have learnt a thing or two for Nesta," Azriel chortled at your words and sent a wave of pride and adoration down the bond, a shower of affection that you lapped up.
"Ouch, y/n. That stung," Cassian fluttered his fingers over his heart and winced dramatically.
"Bite me," you flipped him off and headed back into the kitchen where the most incredible aromas floated from.
Once a month, you promised to cook a family dinner for them all, having negotiated your family away from the once a week they had begged for. It was as though they believed that you didn't have a life. The most decadent bakery in Velaris had your name plastered on the front of it in pale blue swirls, that was how you had met Azriel, after Feyre had dragged him into the store owned by the tiny fae female who made the best pastries she had ever tasted in her life.
The bond had snapped immediately for him when he saw you in your black apron dusted with flour, pink icing and white buttercream on your cheeks, hair strewn up but spilling over your forehead, boxing up a larger than you three tier cake without breaking a sweat.
The pastries you had made for him once you had decided to accept the bond, and the life that came with it, were almost as good as the passionate love he gave you that night.
Azriel loved everything about you, from the larger than life ferocity and sass you carried in your tiny body, to your equally ferocious loving heart; you were independent, talented, sweet, and kind, a ray of sunshine in his otherwise shadowed reality.
Though, there were two things that Azriel loved more than anything. The first was being able to find any excuse to lift you up in his hands, whether that be to help you reach the top shelf or fuck you against a wall; he wouldn't admit it easily, but he did purposefully hide things out of reach from you so that he had a reason to hold you in his large hands. The second thing he adored was how you would stand on his feet, on your tiptoes, to capture his lips on yours. It was such a sickly sweet part of you, but one that he wouldn't change for anything.
Hearing you strain, Azriel furrowed his brow, imagining you struggling to reach the second shelf of the cupboard in a home where furniture had been made for three huge Illyrians, not a tiny fae baker. Rounding the corner, he smirked at your form, he smirked at the way your skirt was hitched around your thighs as you clambered onto a nearby chair to hop onto the countertop.
Azriel sauntered over to you, laying his large hands on your hips and pressing his lips to the small of your back, grinning against your skin when you shuddered at the contact, "Need any help?" Azriel had moved the stool away from the edge of the counter, placing himself where it used to be.
Turning in his hands, you looked down on him with a wide smile, "No, I got it," you presented the bag of sugar to him and he took it from your fingers, placing it down for you, "Is this what it's like to be you? I can see so much up here."
Azriel chuckled, resting his chin on your stomach and peering up at you through his long lashes that always made you curse his Illyrian genes, "I guess so," he shrugged, locking his arms around your hips, enjoying the moment you had taken to run your fingernails over his scalp which drew a whine from his lips.
Taking his face in your hands, you leaned down and placed your lips to his, a tender embrace, one full of love and the faint taste of your vanilla lip balm that gave your lips the most incredible glossy finish, "How does it feel to kiss someone taller than you?"
Grinning, Azriel prodded, "Amazing actually. I've been breaking my back to kiss you."
You gasped, swatting his shoulder with the towel you had tucked into the back of your skirt, "I'm not that fucking short!"
His laugh boomed throughout the kitchen as you fiddled with the ends of your hair, "Okay, maybe I am just a little bit. Cassian's right, how do we have sex?" Azriel continued to laugh at your mumbling as he lifted you from the counter, placing you back on to the ground which felt so far away from where you were stood moments before.
Your mate bent down to peck your pouting bottom lip, pulling you into his body and stroking his fingers through your hair, "Who are we to question science? It works, that's good enough for me."
"It's definitely good enough for me."
"Oh I know. You told me as much last night - ow!" Azriel hissed as you dug your heel into his foot, frowning, he asked, "What was that for?"
Your cheeks flushed pink and you bashfully whispered, "I don't need Cassian to know what I tell you when we're doing that."
"You said it first."
"And?" There it was, the sass, the popped hip and arched brow, "Now move, I need to finish cooking and you're blocking my view."
Azriel smirked, "Oh my beautiful little thing, but I am the view."
A giggle floated through your lips, his favourite sound apart from when you were moaning his name beneath him, "You're lucky I love you," you fell into his open arms and pressed your lips to his clothed chest, to the exact place where your lips always met when you stood before him.
"I wouldn't change anything about you, you know that right?"
Humming in agreement, your hands wrapped around his back, "I know, Az," you pulled away, craning your neck toward the ceiling to look at him, "I'd change one thing about you though," his face dropped, "That you'd stop purposefully hiding things on the top shelf."
Azriel took a step back, "You know?!"
Scoffing, you turned, focusing back to the slowly simmering melting chocolate on the stove top, "Of course I know. I'm small, not dumb."
Azriel's warmth swarmed you, his huge arms nestled over your chest, and he rested his head atop your own, "All I can do is do it a little less. You know I like man-handling you. It makes me feel strong."
"Big Illyrian baby."
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Authors Note
Just a little drabble on a Wednesday evening x
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surielstea · 8 days
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Words on Paper
Based on this request.
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Pairing: Azriel x Fem!Reader
Summary: Azriel’s jealous over a male in your book and it’s hilarious.
Warnings: Just fluff, short Drabble :)
1k words
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You and Nesta hadn't shut up about the men in your books all morning. The new Sellyn Drake novel had come out less than a week ago and the both of you couldn't stop raving about it, you swore you had dreams about the characters, and when you weren't caught up in the plot you were analyzing the characters, the male love interest specifically who Nesta and you were all but frothing at the mouth over.
"I need him, unfortunately," Nesta sighed, looking over to me as we held our planks. Valkyrie training seemed to go a lot faster when the both of you got the chance to debrief over chapters and share what you were passionate about, Cassian didn't seem to care as long as we stayed on task and kept up with the movements.
The exercises had become second nature to the both of you, sure it wasn't as mindless as breathing but after it's been part of your routine for weeks it truly does come naturally, like a second language that only the two of you can speak.
Azriel was slow to insanity at this point. He couldn't seem to adjust to the idea of you taking interest in anyone but him. With Mates, the rule is that if the bond is accepted then there's no one else for that person, intertwined by fate.
So why was he so irritated when you rambled too long about a guy from a book?
"Are you two working out your mouths too?" Azriel stands above you, arms crossed over his chest. Slowly, you look up at him with a wide grin. "Sorry, sir," you tease. Nesta shakes her head in exasperation and you giggle.
It took one minute of silence until Nesta and you were whispering amongst each other again.
Azriel seems to have given up days ago, his eyes narrowed at you from across the sparring mats, Cassian next to him as they drink their waters.
“Doesn’t it bother you?” Azriel asks his brother, continuing to stare at both of their mates. “Does what?” Cassian turned to him with an arched brow. “That they’re so obsessed with those men from their little smut novels,” Azriel mutters and Cassian nearly laughs at the death glare the Shadow Singer was saving for the fictional male, who as of late was threatening to take his wife away.
“It’s just words on paper,” Cass shrugs, bending down to place his water on the ground. “I know but, the idea of her wanting anyone else gets under my skin,” Azriel argues and this time Cassian does laugh, it was so odd to see the revered Spymaster so torn up about some guy, who wasn’t even real. “What’re you jealous of him?” Cassian scoffs through his laughter. Azriel rolls his eyes and puts his water down. “Whatever, just don’t come crying when you can’t satisfy Nesta anymore,” He grumbled.
“I doubt that day will come,” Nesta hums from behind the Shadow Singer. He knew she was there, you with her, but he needed to get his point across. “Hey hun, you ready to go?” You dip under his arm, placing a hand on his bare chest. He only nodded in reply.
“Hey, remember what I said, it’s just words Az,” Cassian said before you got the chance to winnow him away, he nodded once more then you took him home.
You didn’t want to know what the General was going on about, you could tell from training Azriel was a little irritated but you couldn’t remember doing anything to irk him.
“You gonna tell me what’s wrong or just keep pouting like a baby?” You ask and he scowls down at you. You smile, hands coming to his jaw and pressing a soft kiss to his lips, he barely has time to reciprocate it before you’re pulling away.
“What’s got you so tense?” You smush his cheeks together and he just stares at you in reply, so you begin to guess. “Something Cass did?” You ask and he shakes his head no. “Something I did?” He doesn’t move and you deflate, flinging your arms over his shoulders and melting into him. “Can’t you just tell me what’s wrong, please?” You sigh into his neck, already admitting defeat. “Do you like him more than me?” He blurts and you stiffen, pulling away to look up at him confused. “Like who?” You utter. “The guy in your stupid book,” He grumbled and you openly cackled before slapping a hand over your lips. “It’s not funny,” He groans backing away from your touch and plopping down onto the sofa, where he could sulk in peace. “I know, I’m sorry Az,” You say, taking deep breaths to control your giggles. “I’m just saying, what does he have that I don’t?” He frowns and you walk over to him, sprawling over his lap and straddling his hips. “Perhaps a control on his emotions?” You tease and he grumbles beneath his breath like a child, looking away from you.
It was true that Azriel was quite explosive. One would think he’d be less reactive as the Spymaster and yet he might’ve been the quickest to action out of all the inner circle. It was a weakness, something he was working on. It was rude of you to point it out but you make up for it by peppering a line of loving kisses up the side of his face.
“I love you, okay? Only you,” You reassure. “Those men, they’re meant to be thirsted over, you understand that don’t you?” You ask and the male nods. “I just don’t want you wanting anyone else,” He looks at me and my grin widens. “Awh, Az,” You wrap your arms around him and squeeze him tight. “I’m all yours, don’t worry,” You muffle into his neck. “Yeah? All mine?” He asks and you nod rapidly before saying, “Promise,”
“Now stop acting like a big baby,” you pull away from the hug and hold his face in your hands. “I’m gonna go bathe, you gonna keep moping out here or do you wanna join me?” You tease. He doesn’t answer and instead picks you up from where you sit and walks you straight to the bathing chambers.
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ervotica · 3 months
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𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠
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pairing; azriel x fem!reader
summary; and so i cry the light is white and i see you
when your wings are taken from you in a brutal act of torture, you see no way to ease your grief. your mate is there to guide you back when you need him most.
warnings; hurt/comfort, ANGST, suicidal ideation, sorta suicide attempt, in depth descriptions of injury
The wind stings at your flushed cheeks where you stand at the edge of the rooftop. It's dark, iridescent balls of light expanding at every edge of your vision as you take a step towards the lip of the roof that overhangs from the house. Wetness clings to your eyes, threatening to spill over your itching waterline when you gaze down to the sea of lights below.
You long to feel the whip of the breeze against your face as you rise and dive into the night sky, to scream and yell at the top of your lungs as your wings flap behind you in tandem with your family.
You'll never feel that again.
You've been a shell of yourself since the day your wings were taken. Had them brutally cut from your body, hacksawed until all that remained were jagged stumps in place of gorgeous, thick corded planes of muscle. Naked. Half the person you once were. Your back is a myriad of scars, still healing and bruised, ripples of broken flesh marring your once untouched skin.
You are broken and ugly and miserable.
It took weeks to even walk again, weeks of rehabilitation, physical therapy with Madja. Weeks of sobbing in your mate's arms as he held you upright, of wanting to claw your way out of your own skin and scream and rage until something snaps you out of this living nightmare. Weeks of Azriel having to force you to eat and drink, to get outside in favour of withering away in your bed.
You're teetering on the edge of the building now, swaying in time with the gusts of air that threaten to send you toppling onto the street below.
"My love, what are you doing?" Azriel's voice breaks you out of your haze, but you don't move; you don't make any effort to step away from the edge. One wrong move from either of you and you're dead.
"I miss flying," you croak.
"I know you do." His voice oozes with pity and it sends rage hurting through your veins like the white-hot lick of a flame. You stumble, swatting Azriel's hands away when he surges forward to wrench you back. Your pulse roars in your ears and you lose focus of his speech, each pleading word blending into one another until you don't bother to decipher the words at all.
"Come back to me," he shouts over the ringing in your ears. "Come back to me, mate."
The name seizes your muscles, pours into your soul like molten lava and solidifies, heavy and unforgiving.
"Why?" you whirl around, heels hanging over thin air, nothing to break your impact were you to fall - or throw yourself - from this great height. Azriel's unnaturally still, not moving, not breathing- calculating how long it would take him to dive after you if you were to slip. "Why do you call me that? Why don't you run from me, leave me here now I'm not of use anymore."
He takes one step, and then another. Sweat beads on your brow despite the frigid chill of the night- his scarred fingers outstretched, waiting for you to take them. The golden thread inside your chest pulls taut like a bowstring. He's calling you home.
"You are my mate." he says. "I need you. Come back to me, my love."
"I'm ruined, Az." The words stick in your throat like syrup. "I'm no good to anyone, anymore. All I'll do is burden you." A sob rips through you. "You won't be happy with what I am now. I just want you to be happy."
The confession almost brings him to his knees.
Something snaps inside of him; eery calm replaces terror as he surveys you with narrowed eyes and a tilt of his head.
This is not your Azriel.
This is the feared shadowsinger- who wears a mask of cool wrath, who bows to no one. A calculated facade of composure.
"You are not ruined," he growls. The glacial fury in his voice has your breath catching in your throat, your insides freezing as if his words have wrapped icy fingers around your throat. "You are my mate, and you will step down and come to me. Now."
You find yourself complying without question, moving away on wobbling legs until your limbs give out and you're tripping over your own feet, hurtling towards the ground. As fast as the mask appears, it slips away, pure, unrelenting relief cascading down the bond.
Azriel's already there, hooking his arms beneath your own to shoulder your weight, a hand atop your head to anchor your body to his own even as you shudder and scream and soak his leathers with angry tears.
"I know, my love. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he murmurs, the words a whisper into your hair as you claw at him, legs buckled and utterly useless. You're settled against thick muscle, tucked under Azriel's chin where he's lowered you both to the ground.
"I'm nothing," you gasp against his chest. "I have no place here anymore. I'm useless."
His hand is an anchor against the back of your neck, grounding when he squeezes the malleable flesh to draw your gaze to his own.
"You are everything."
The welcome pressure on your neck lulls you into drawing a long breath. Azriel deflates, hazel eyes trained on the rise and fall of your heaving chest.
"I am nothing without you," he continues on. "You are my life and my heart. Were you to die, I'd go by your side with a smile. I can't bear the thought of living in a world where you do not exist."
His wings twitch where they're tucked behind him. Your trembling fingers splay against the sharp angle of his jaw.
"I'm sorry," you croak. "I never want to leave you." His knuckles drag across your cheekbones, brushing away the tears that stain your balmy face. "I don't know how to live like this."
His lips press to your temple, brow nestled against the wisps of windswept hair at the crown of your head. He smears a kiss there and ventures lower. One against your jaw, your chin, in the crease of your brows.
And then he slants his lips over your own. Your muscles go soft, ragged breaths evening as he parts your lips with a swipe of his tongue, a hand splayed against the base of your spine as you sag. He brushes your nose with the tip of a scarred finger.
"Come on," he murmurs, urging you to stand. When you do, he tucks you into his chest, arms slung over your shoulders in a crushing embrace. "I will do anything to make this easier for you, my heart. I know it will be difficult, and I know it's scary. But stay with me."
Your arms tighten around his middle.
"Always."
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wildandsmile · 9 months
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𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡 ☆ 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬; 𝐚𝐜𝐨𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬
🗯️ cassian, lucien, tamlin, azriel, rhysand, eris. spanking, praise, dirty talk, breeding kink, degradation, oral(receiving), sub x dom relationships, wrote this at like 2am so it’s not the greatest thing i’ve ever produced. enjoy!
𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐚𝐧 —
• loves to tease you, especially while you’re busy.
• reading? no you’re not. cassian is busy chatting away in your ear, whispering filthy things that would make asmodeous blush.
• takes you anywhere and everywhere, especially when you two first mated. it drove everybody else crazy.
• likes quickies. nuts inside you everytime.
“cass.. cassie! slow down, slow down!” cassian groans as he ruts into you, hard and fast and so perfectly deep you feel like you can touch the stars blurring your vision. “shhh, baby.. you’re gonna get us caught. is that what you want? want rhysie to see me fucking your brains out?” he held you up against the lounge room wall, the lounge room that was less than two doors down from rhysand’s office, where he was holding a serious meeting. a meeting cassian was supposed to be at, but he had ditched to bury himself inside your welcoming pussy. “shit.. squeezin’ me so fuckin’ tight.” he groaned into your ear, keeping a firm grip on your ass. “cassian..” you whimpered, digging your nails into his shoulders, near his wings. a shiver ran down his spine and he gave a particularly hard thrust into your heat, and you cried out loudly. cassian slapped his hand over your mouth, resting his forehead against yours. “fuck. gonna cum inside you.” he grunted, roughly shoving himself into your dripping heat over and over again. his thumb caught against your clit and he began rubbing feverish circles against it, drawing you to an orgasm. you cried against his hand as his hips stuttered and he emptied himself inside you, filling your womb. “fuck.. that’s my girl.”
𝐫𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐝 —
• loves fucking you slow.
• worships your body from head to toe, kissing every single part of you until you’re shaking and begging him to make you cum.
• EATS. IT.
• biggest munch alive. would happily spend the next two thousand years of his life buried between your thighs with his tongue lapping against your cunt.
• doesn’t like quickies but will do them if you need. knows how to make you cum in twenty seconds flat.
• praises you like crazy.
rhys laid you down on your shared bed gently, pressing a kiss against your ankle. you sat up on your elbows and gazed at him as he unlatched the hook on your high heel, pulling it off and soon doing the same with the other. “rhys.. what’s the matter?” you asked softly, reaching out to run your hand through his soft hair. “am i not allowed to love my wife?” he discarded your heels and crawled on top of you, pulling the skirt of your dress up over your hips and letting it rest on your stomach. he got down and pressed his lips against your clothed cunt, kissing above your clit. he reveled in the way your body reacted to his touch, twitching and relaxing under him. “i love you..” you muttered. he smirked against your heat, hooking his fingers over the waistband of your panties and pulling them down to your ankles, discarding them as he did your heels. “i know.” he went for your clit immediately, making you moan and arch your back. “you’ll never question my love for you when i’m done.”
𝐚𝐳𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐥 —
• shadows.
• knows your body like the back of his hand
• is canonically a slut. knows how to please a woman but can get impatient.
• will fuck you with half his dick to get you used to him at first.
• chokes you. loves seeing your pretty throat underneath his hand.
• his shadows whisper in your ears and trail along your body while he defiles you.
• begs you to sit on his face.
it’s cold all around, but the temperature doesn’t reach your skin. azriel’s shadows wrapped around your naked body, slinking over your breasts and dipping between your legs as azriel’s large hands held your thighs open. he positioned himself between your legs, reaching one hand to begin jerking himself off. his gaze roamed over your supple flesh, arched back and glossy lips looking so perfect for him. he had eaten you out prior, making sure you were relaxed and wet enough to take him. “ready?” he groaned, finding it increasingly difficult to restrain from touching you. “yes..” he slipped inside of you immediately, slowly pressing each inch inside of you. the stretch hurt in such a good way. you’d never fully get used to the feeling of him. “shit.. good.. that’s good. you’re taking me so well, princess.” he groans as his shadows swirl around your neck. it’s imposing, an arousing threat. azriel places his hand over your throat and squeezes gently. “like that?” he asks. you whimper as he begins picking up the pace, fucking into you feverishly. “like that, huh? you like being fucked like this?” he asks repeatedly, but you can’t respond. can only nod and whimper and choke on your moans. “good.. take it.”
𝐭𝐚𝐦𝐥𝐢𝐧 —
• rough but gentle and romantic sometimes.
• loves being buried inside of you.
• prefers to fuck in the bedroom but will take you out in the garden.
• loves it when you say his name. chooses you every calanmai but refuses to marry you.
• loves spanking your ass.
“say my name, baby.” he growls, his grip on your hips borderline bruising as he ruts into you from behind. he lands a slap against your ass cheek, leaving a red print. “say it.” “tam! tamlin..!” you cry out, face-down-ass-up for your high lord. “fuck.. yeah, baby. takin’ my cock so good. made for it.” he mumbles from behind you, the sound of your wet cunt and his pelvis slapping against your ass filling the room. the bed lurched forward each time he thrusted into you, filling you up perfectly, nearly kissing your cervix. he leaned forward and pinched your clit, making you jerk and cry out. “cum for me, baby. now. cum for me.” he growls, picking up speed and railing you so hard you felt that your back would give. your cunt clenched around him so hard you were seeing stars, but what sent you over the edge was one more swipe over your clit and one more swat at your ass. you fell apart on his cock, spasming as he emptied himself inside of you. he stayed sheathed in your cunt for a few moments before leaning down and pressing a kiss against your temple. “good girl.. did so good for me.” he wrapped his arms around you and the feeling of his breath on your neck sent a shiver down your spine. “love you, baby.”
𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐧 —
• the most gentle and attentive lover EVER.
• won’t cum unless you do.
• he whimpers.
• charming, so charming. got you to fall in love with him by weaving you a bracelet made of dandelions.
• praises you sooo much. is absolutely pussy whipped and head over heels for you.
• big dick. fucks with fire in his veins. is always warm.
“are you okay?” lucien asks. he was above you in the sprawling grass of the autumn court, in one of the autumn estate’s many gardens. he caged you between his arms as you lied on your back in the soft grass, amongst the leaves. the soft breeze brushed past your naked bodies, making your nipples peak. “yes.. i’m perfect, lucien.” you leaned forward to press your lips against his smooth, sun-kissed skin as he gently thrusted into you, sighing and mewling in pleasure. you embraced each other as he picked up the pace a bit, keeping a steady balance between going fast and deep. you moaned, a serene feeling spreading over your body, making you smile. his hand intertwined with yours as his cock began twitching inside of you. “god.. beautiful, i’m gonna cum.” you squeezed his hand as he leaned down to kiss your neck, sucking it gently. you smiled like a fox, leaning up to whisper in his ear. “let’s cum together.” and that you did. your words pushed him over the edge and he pulled out as you reached your peak, spilling his load all over your stomach and beneath breasts. he was breathing hard as he laid himself next to you, gathering you up in his arms. “i love you.” you smiled. “i love you too, lucie. but you’re crushing my leg.”
𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐬 —
• breeds. you.
• LOVES to fuck you on his fathers throne.
• loves to parade you around the autumn court and take you with him when he goes to visit the night court. you’re just so pretty, how could he not show off his beautiful mate?
• is surprisingly gentle and caring behind closed doors. is obsessed with you.
• tits. loves tits. basic boy. boobs = happiness.
“there you go.. ride me, whore. fuck.” eris’ calloused hands grasped roughly at your boobs as you rode him, making you moan and whimper. “eris..” you mewled. he grunted and moved his hands down to your hips. he gripped them and began thrusting upwards into you, hard. the sound of your wet cunt reverberated against the walls, echoing around the throne room. eris took you in his father’s throne for the third time that week while beron was away attending business that neither of you cared to know the reason for. “fuck. you like that? like it when i fuck this perfect cunt?” he asked, tweaking your nipples between his fingers roughly before taking one into his mouth, sucking harshly. “yes!” you cried, grasping onto his shoulders as you slammed your hips down onto him each time he thrusted up. “that’s a good whore.. want me to fill your womb? make you bare my heir? huh?” you nodded your head, unintelligible nonsense about wanting to be a good incubator for him falling from your lips. he smirked as he watched you babble and felt your hips stutter as you neared climax, your walls tightening around him. “good.. take it, slut.”
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lalacliffthorne · 9 months
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because not even Azriel can sneak around forever, and it really is a wonder no one caught on earlier 🦇💜
(last part of the hickey drabbles)
this is the epitomy of giddy squeals and giggles, I´m so happy right now *kicks feet and squeals*
Tipping my head to the side, I stared at Azriel. His shoulders were propped against the foot of the bed as his eyes moved calmly over the pages of the book he was holding, his rough fingers absentmindedly stroking over my calf, and my heart drummed steadily against my ribs as I watched the warm morning light cast him in a golden hue.
“You think the others would notice another hickey?”
Azriel's eyes darted up from the pages and narrowed, and I almost choked on a snorted giggle when his fingers wrapped around my ankle and jerked me down and over the mattress. I heard the thud of his book landing on the floor, then his hands closed around my hips, and my breath caught in my throat when he dipped his head and his tousled hair brushed over my bare stomach.
I could feel Azriel's lips curve upwards. Then he slowly pressed his lips against my skin.
My heart leapt high, my hand darting out to slip into his hair as my eyes fluttered, and Azriel shifted, pushing my legs apart as he started to ghost his lips over my skin, his nose leaving a track of goosebumps in its wake. Every few seconds he lingered, pressing his lips against my skin, nipping and biting softly.
Something began to coil in my stomach, a flutter growing under my ribs, becoming stronger and stronger as Azriel slowly trailed up my stomach, his rough fingers closing around my sides as he gently nipped at the soft skin under my breasts. My breath stuttered, and I could feel his lips curving upwards when I dug my fingers into his hair.
Raising his head lightly, Azriel trailed his nose over the valley between my breasts and my neck as he moved up my body. Then his breath hit my cheek, and I forced open my eyes that at some point in the past minutes had fluttered shut, my own breath quick and unsteady as I tried to suppress the urge to swallow.
One corner of Azriel's lips slowly rose until a light crease formed in his cheek, his golden eyes twinkling in the soft light. Then he dipped his head and kissed me slowly.
I inhaled softly and sharply and slipped my hand up his chest, feeling my fingers leave a trail of goosebumps as they curved around the back of his neck and I kissed back.
A low sound left the back of Azriel's throat, and he moved closer, his bare chest pressing into mine as his knee pushed into the mattress between my thighs and his hand slipped to my jaw to tilt my head back as he deepend the kiss. His tongue brushed lazily over mine, and everything in my stomach curled as my heart thrummed into my throat.
With a crash, the door was thrown open; something jumped high in my chest when I pulled back quickly, eyes wide, and Cassian froze. His gaze darted over the scene in front of him; me, only in underwear, Azriel hovering above me wearing pyjama pants and no shirt, fresh scratches on his bare back, wings spread protectively –
My heart fluttered into my throat.
Seems like there was no getting out of this one.
For a second, I felt Azriel tense. But then he just scowled lightly and raised a brow at his brother.
“What?”
Cassian blinked, and he squinted as slowly, his lips began to form a shit-eating grin. Then he turned his head lightly to call over his shoulder: “Mor?”
Azriel's scowl deepend, and shadows rose, slamming the door into Cassian's face. There was a muffled, snorted laugh from the hall, then Cass yelled loudly: “Feyre?!”
I winced, and Azriel breathed a groan, body deflating and collapsing onto mine, pulling me with him as he rolled onto his back and buried his face in my hair. Then he grumbled: “They're going to be –“
“Relentless,”, we finished in unison, and my heart flipped softly when I could feel Azriel smirk lightly into my hair.
Hesitating for a second, I propped myself up to stare down at him. His eyes were tired, and a little grumpy, but there was something dancing in his iris that looked suspiciously like amusement.
I blinked before slowly narrowing my eyes, and suddenly, my heart skipped a second.
“You knew he was coming, didn't you?”
Azriel shrugged, his honey colored eyes dragging over my face as one corner of his lips quirked upwards, and I opened my mouth.
“You could have locked the door!“ Staring at him, I lost the fight against my lips that desperately wanted to form a stupidly wide smile, and Azriel easily caught my hand before I could hit his biceps, his eyes bright when he grinned and pulled me into his chest.
I huffed into his skin before twisting my neck to stare up at him, trying my best to send him a glare.
“If they'll use this against us for the next century, I'm fully blaming you.”
Azriel stared down at me, one corner of his lips rising until a crease formed in his cheek. Then he blinked, and for a second, he looked a little cautios, his gaze moving over my face.
“Are you alright?”, he mumbled, not adding with this even though it rung through his voice, and something rose in my chest, skipping and fluttering when slowly, I started to smile, wide and cheekily.
“Eh.” I shrugged, resting my chin against his chest. “They would have found out eventually.” I furrowed my brows. “Besides, it was getting sort of annoying, not being able to just kiss you whenever I wanted.”
Azriel blinked, and my breath hitched when his eyes dragged over my face, his lips beginning to curve upwards, up and up until creases formed in his cheeks and his eyes twinkled.
I barely kept myself from swallowing harshly, because Gods, he was just unfairly beautiful, and instead just stared back, feeling my heart skip and hop with every beat. Then I blinked.
“They're going to come up here if we don't go downstairs, right?”
“Probably.” Azriel's eyes were shining with amusement, and breathing out and grumbling softly under my breath, I dragged myself up. Slowly climbing off the mattress, I picked up his discarded shirt from the ground, the cotton soft when I pulled it over my head and felt a wave of his scent of wash over me.
“Alright.” I held out my hand. “Let's get this over with then.”
Azriel huffed but slipped his fingers between mine, and I dragged him to his feet, tipping my head back to look up at him. One corner of Azriel's lips quirked, and I deadpanned and turned around.
Trudging down the stairs, I could feel Azriel behind me, his shadows brushing over the back of my legs and my hands, like a silent assurance for him as well as for me. When I threw a look at him over my shoulder, he was running a hand through his hair, his eyes glowing like amber in the warm morning light falling through the windows in the staircase. He caught my gaze, and a light twinkle flashed through his iris.
When I walked into the living room, Mor and Feyre, sat on the couch, raised their heads, and Cassian looked over his shoulders.
Mor squinted, tipping her head to the side in mild confusion as her eyes flickered over me, in the way too big shirt and with my hair probably still a mess, and her brows furrowed.
“So… the gigantic revelation is that Y/N slept in?”
“Shocking.” Feyre sounded dry as she sent me a grin, and I was just about to scowl when both Mor's and Feyre's eyes darted towards something behind me, and without turning around I knew that Azriel had appeared behind me. In pyjama pants, with equally messy hair and tired eyes.
Mor blinked while Feyre furrowed her brows. I could see the cogs turning in their heads while Cassian was practically vibrating on the spot, a shit-eating smirk on his face.
The air shifted behind the couch, and Rhys appeared out of darkness, straightening the lapels of his jacket and raising his brows. “Alright, what's so important?”
Cassian grinned widely.
After a few more second of silence, Azriel seemed to grow tired of waiting. He huffed and stepped closer; his chest brushed against my shoulder, and he lazily slipped a hand over my waist and tugged me back into his body.
Mor's and Feyre's eyes grew comically wide in unison.
“Oh!” Mor's mouth fell open as she pointed wildly at us. “Oh!”
“There it is,”, I mumbled under my breath, and I could feel Azriel drop his head to hide his light grin in my hair.
“What?!” Feyre gaped.
Rhys tipped his head to the side. “Huh.” Slowly, one corner of his lips quirked, and Azriel scowled at him over my head - likely in respone to something the High Lord had uttered in his mind, because Rhys' grin widened until it matched the one Cass was still wearing.
“You and you!” Mor looked torn between elated and pissed. “You two incredible shitheads!”
Rhys snorted, but Azriel just huffed, and when I threw him a look, his eyes were bright and twinkling as he loosely draped his arm over my collarbones.
My heart flipped and fluttered, and I almost groaned.
He was enjoying this.
Shithead.
“Wait, how did you –“, Feyre pointed at Cassian, and the General squinted.
“Let's put it this way;”, his lips twitched, “I am never walking into either one of their rooms again without waiting for a come in.”
“To be fair, you shouldn't do that anyway.” I pointed at him.
“Wait…” Mor was suddenly staring at us, her lips slowly curving. “How long have you two been sneaking around?”
I shrugged. “Few months?”
“Shitheads,”, Cassian whispered, but Mor didn't seem to hear him, because her eyes grew wide, and she reached out to grab Feyre's shoulder. Shaking it lightly, her thoughts seemed to be blaring, because suddenly, Feyre's eyes became big as well, and like one, they pointed at us.
 “Hickeys!”, it echoed in glee, and Azriel groaned and buried his face in my hair.
I blinked. Then I felt my lips twitch as I slowly started to smile, bright and cheekily.
Cassian's eyes widened subtly, and his shoulders began to shake as he chortled. “Oh Gods.”
Rhys beamed, and while Mor and Feyre started cackling, Azriel tightened his grip around me and dropped his head. My breath hitched when his hot breath brushed over my neck, then his deep voice sounded next to my ear, grumbling: “You're right. This is entirely my fault.”
part I part II
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myromanempiree · 5 days
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stomach sleeping - eris drabble
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A hand snaking up your spine, paired with a gentle kiss on the back of your neck, disturbed your slumber. “Doe?” Eris whispered softly. “Are you awake?”
A single nod from you induces a gentle smile on his face. His hand move from your spine to cupping your face. “You can't lay like that, my love.” He said, his voice soft, an enlightened tone only you have had the pleasure of hearing.
You groan, perfectly comfortable. “I'm fine, Eris.” You chastise, curling up into the silken covers, the auburn color a shimmering molten in the moonlight.
As you fall back asleep you let out a sign of protest as his arms wrap around you and turn you over, so you rest in the crook of his arm, back against his chest. “It's bad for the baby.” he retorts.
“I'm hardly two and half months pregnant.” A sigh from your lovely, but worried mate. “That's too many, I mean you've never been pregnant before—”
“Have you?” You said, looking up at him with a raised eyebrow. “You are a stubborn, foul female.” He whispered.
Despite this the ever-so-gentle, sweet peck to your neck begged of his never ending adoration
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a/n: I've never published a fanfic before so this is definitely a WIP, but what do we think of the writing style?? Any notes? I'd take some if offered 😅
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redbleedingrose · 25 days
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Rhysand x Reader Masterlist
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Rhys always takes care of you
Slutty Rhys
Does Rhysand share with his brothers?
Rhys smakin' ass
Rhysie is a meanie
Arguing with the high lord... your high lord
Fashionista Rhys
NSFW alphabet
🧠 Pick a character, and I'll tell you my favorite headcanon for them
Rhysand is a SLUT
Rhysand is a Girl Dad
Rhys' girls always match - Girl Dad!Rhys
Girl Dad!Rhysand x Reader
Girl Dad!Rhysand x Reader pt 2
Best Friend to lovers!Rhys x Reader mood board
Best Friend to Lovers!Rhys x Reader mood board 2
A/N: Hi all! As you know, I have been making updates to my main masterlist and creating specific character masterlists to make things easier on myself. Here is the updated Rhysand masterlist! I have also completed the updated Cassian and Always Masterlists! I do have a mood board masterlist as well if you wanna check that out. I am honestly so honored and lucky that you all are discovering me again. It feels soo so so good as things had slowed down for quite a bit. Still trying to work through an updated Bat boys, Lucien, Eris masterlist's as well. Eris is gonna take a bit as Girl Dad!Eris deserves his own seperate masterlist. I will continue to update the main as I go to make things easier and accessable to you all. Thank you sm again! Love you all sooooo much!!! Thank you for supporting me!!
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tadpolesonalgae · 2 months
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They get turned on when you’re angry — headcanons
a/n: thank you 🩰 for this thought, and thank you anon for requesting it 🧡💛 (this is ever so slightly unserious, please accept my apologies)
warnings: starts out suggestive, derails into smut :)
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Rhysand:
“You can’t keep insisting you’re the most handsome High Lord at the High Lord meetings, Rhys!”
You’ve got him sat on the edge of your bed as you scold him for his behaviour, Rhys waiting patiently as he watches you trying to ply the clips from your hair, your own patience wearing thin as frustration builds at their refusal to budge
“I mean really Rhys, I understand you’re no longer acting out a cruel persona, but a little tact, no? Just some discretion? Not cracking jokes left right and centre!”
You hiss as one of the clips snags on a strand of hair, cursing both him and the clip out under your breath
“Darling, will you please just allow me to—”
“Don’t you dare move, Rhysand.”
Colour warms the tan skin of his cheeks, eyes appreciatively running down the trail of your spine, heat gathering at the spankable curve of your hind. The tone you’d used…
“I know you think you’re charismatic and charming, but your arrogance is getting out of hand,” you continue, oblivious to the dark dip in his thoughts, “I suppose it’s inevitable when you have no one to keep you in check, but—”
“No one to keep me in check?”
You whirl on him, hair at last free and unbound, whipping over your shoulder as you turn to him
He’s undone the top most buttons of his shirt, leaned back on the bed, long legs parted—not at all ashamed of the reaction he’s having to the sharp, clipped tone you’d been using on him
“Rhysand!” You hiss, “I’m trying to…”
But he’s not hiding anything, arousal heating the glimmering bond that lies between you, skin tingling with awareness as warmth pools in your belly
“What was it you said again? That I have no one to keep me in check?” He muses, hand shifting over the muscle of his thigh to the obvious hardness between his legs. “No one to remind me of my place?”
“Rhysand,” you warn, “we have a dinner tonight, do not…” but you trail off when he palms himself through the fitted fabric of his trousers, a low groan coming from the back of his throat.
You pry your tongue from the roof of your mouth, delicately licking over dried lips, an action he marks eagerly. “I suppose you could serve being taught a lesson to two…”
Cassian:
“Cass, hurry up! We’re going to be late! Again!”
Really, you would have thought as a General he would have excellent time management skills and would never struggle with being late. And usually, that’s true. But something about going out to dinner to see his family just sends all of that training out the window
“Cassian?” You question, leaning over the banister to call up to your mate’s room. “Cassian, are you nearly ready?”
A series of knocks are landed to your front door, and you blanch, wondering if it’s another pair thinking of walking with you to the River House. But when you open it, you’re greeted with a proudly grinning Cassian, wings tucked in tight against the chill breeze
He must have flown out the window and round to the front again.
“Cassian!” You snap, “I was stressing! Why can’t you just please be on time and save me the anxiety?”
He opens his mouth, pride gleaming in his eyes at what he no doubt thinks is a clever trick, but the amusement has already seeped from your bones.
“For goodness sake,” you mutter, “you haven’t even—” You push up onto your tiptoes, leaning flush against him for support as you set straight a curled lock that was blown the wrong way, flopping to the wrong side of his head
You huff impatiently, settling back onto the flats of you feet, lightly smacking your hand over his chest as you reassess him. “Right. Good. Let’s go.”
“Sweetheart, don’t worry,” he tries, realising too late you’re genuinely bothered, agitation zinging down the bond. “They won’t even—”
“Cassian, I am not in the mood at the moment,” you snap sharply. “How many times have I told you. We need to be ready to leave half an hour before hand. You’re a General for crying out loud, put your knowledge to good use.”
You’ve never snapped like that before at him. He knows you get a little tightly wound when it comes to time management, but never anything like this. Maybe he shouldn’t have gotten your gears turning like that. But your arms have crossed over your chest, drawing his attention to the dip in the neckline, a little further than usual. The strict set of your brows, and the disapproving cut of your mouth…
He zones back in when you click your fingers in his face, “are you even listening to me? For Mother’s sake Cassian, will you at least pay attention when I’m talking to you?”
“I’m paying attention,” he manages, caught off guard by the arousal that’s stirring in his stomach at the terseness of your question. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, I didn’t think—”
“No, you didn’t. Now hurry up and let’s—”
“Don’t cut me off like that,” he breathes lowly, pupils dilated as he stares down at you. The rise and fall of your chest as you glare impatiently…holding your ground…
“Cassian!” You inhale sharply as his large palm snakes around your waist, pulling you into his heat, nosing at your neckline, his scent wrapping around you, and— “Cassian…” you whisper, back curving with arousal
“Where’d that attitude go?” He asks breathlessly. “Bring it back for me. Won’t you do that, sweetheart?”
“Cass…we’re going to be late…” you manage to get out, knocked off your feet by the abrupt display of hunger
“We won’t,” he murmurs, pressing hot kisses to your throat as he works his way down. “Besides, what were those thirty minutes originally put in place for?”
You flush at the reminder—at how frequently things like this would happen so you would both agree to prepare in advance in the case of certain appetites arising
“Though if you want to keep using that tone on me…” his hips roll against yours, pressing the hard outline of his cock into your tummy, groaning at how it feels. “I don’t think I’d mind…”
Azriel:
“Azriel.” You hiss, gripping his hand by the wrist, tight. “Don’t even think about it.”
The shadows scuttle away from beneath your skirts, while the others peer up at the painting Helion’s currently showing off.
“You can’t just put your hands on me whenever you feel mildly compromised,” you whisper sharply, hoping the others won’t notice how you’re lagging behind.
“He just invited you to his bed,” Azriel growls lowly, pupils contracted as he stares razors into the High Lord of Day’s turned back. “And you hardly mustered up a refusal.”
“I was being polite. And of course the offer wasn’t serious,” you hiss back. “Besides, he’s invited you to bed plenty of times, and you never see me getting all territorial about it.”
“I wish you would,” he breathes, voice roughening as he flicks his wrist out of your grasp in favour of gripping your hip lightly, pulling you a little closer. “At least then he’d get the idea.”
“He’s doing this because you’re making it so apparent we’re recently mated,” you snap, “obviously he’s going to enjoy at last being able to get a rise out of you.”
“I need him to know that you’re mine.”
Heat flutters between your legs, suddenly feeling breathless. Your tongue flicks out over dry lips, and that familiar warmth zips down the bond, still so new and sensitive to every change, keyed to one another.
“You keep that sort of nonsense in the bedroom, Azriel,” you manage to hiss to him. “I do not belong to you. I am your mate.”
You can feel even on your side how overpowering, how dominating those instincts are, made worse by the unwelcome and incessant advances from another male. Can feel how he’s straining under the urge to claim you in a very obvious way.
“You belong to me, as I belong to you,” he growls lowly, darkness thickening at his back as those great wings flare menacingly.
“If you belong to me then I command you to be quiet and behave,” you hiss, the crackling tension between you having you snap, frustration simmering beneath your skin as you’re forced to keep your hands off each other until this bothersome tour comes to an end.
It seems to be the last straw for Azriel, however.
He releases a snarl that sounds mixed with a groan, starving lust barreling down the bond as he’s no longer able to keep his side entirely concealed, large palm shackling your wrist as he drags you away from the others, too hungry to wait
The command had been his breaking point, arousal burning through his blood at the sharpness you’d used
He hopes you’ll use it on him again, even once the initial frenzy has at last faded…
Eris:
“Either make me cum, or I’ll find someone else who will,” you hiss, nails scraping over his scalp, gripping the silky locks in your fist
“I wouldn’t recommend that, fawn,” he murmurs beside your ear, pressing his body tight to yours, so you’re trapped between him and the wall as his thigh is pushed flush with your heat. “Besides, you’re already dripping all over me. You think you’ll be able to find anyone else who’ll give you the intensity of one I can?”
“I don’t care at this point,” you counter. “Either give it to me or I’ll have to use something else.”
The impatience catches him off guard. You’re usually so sweet and docile—he wonders where the spark has come from. It seems rather fun to tamper with
“Like your fingers? Your pillow?” He asks, voice deepening as he presses his hips to yours, grinding into the softness of your tummy as you try to rub over his thigh, to get some kind of pleasure. “I’d love to see you try,” he whispers breathlessly
“Fuck you,” you hiss, heat fluttering between your legs, mind turning dizzy with hunger as your arms wrap tight over his broad shoulders, leg weaving round his to try and get him closer—
“Quit it,” you snap, flame blazing in your eyes as your lip curls when he pulls his thigh back, leaving you without stimulation. “You’re being a fucking pain,” you hiss, tugging on his hair
His eyes flutter, hips bucking against you with hunger as he dips down, attacking your neck with kisses and nips, arousal having him firmly within its grasp at that demand
You moan at the sensations, back arching up into him as you feel the pronounced outline of him against you, twitching as he grinds against you
“Fuck, Eris…” you pant, so near the verge of pleasure.
“Get on the bed,” you whisper, hands shakily pushing him away, so he’s stood to his full height, looming over you
When he doesn’t move, you snarl, too impatient to wait for his games. “I said get on the bed.”
The intensity of his arousal hits you then, practically knocking you clean off your feet, both of you seemingly taken aback at just how heavily affected he is
“You like this?” You breathe, pulse spiking as you peer up into his eyes, irises almost fully eclipsed by hunger
He doesn’t need to answer as your hand slips between the two of you, cupping him, feeling just how hard he is, how hungry he is… You curse lowly
“Oh you’re going to pay for every damn teasing thing you’ve ever done to me,” you whisper over his mouth, pushing for him to walk back until his legs come into contact with the bed
“And you’re going to pay tenfold.”
Lucien:
“I just don’t get it, Lu,” you sigh frustratedly, pacing back and forth as he watches you from the plush armchair. “I’ve tried so many different things, she just seems to have it out for me.”
“Are you sure you’re not overthinking this?” He suggests wryly. “We both know you have a habit of assuming the worst when it comes to how other people perceive you.”
“I’m not overthinking this one,” you snap. “She blatantly cut me off and turned her back on me during tea the other day. I don’t know what it is other than she just dislikes me.”
“And wouldn’t it simply be the end of the world if one female didn’t absolutely adore you,” he drawls, stretching out in his seat, long legs crossing at the ankle
“Don’t take that tone with me,” you say sharply, spinning around to face him, glaring
Lucien stiffens under the fire in your gaze, the anger simmering away as you stare him down, surprised by how hot his skin feels beneath that look
“I know for a fact I haven’t done anything wrong this time—and I’m certain of that,” you huff, beginning to pace back and forth, allowing him a moment to grapple with the reaction searing through his body
“Why is she trying to bring me down? I don’t understand it. I’ve never done anything, said anything that could harm her standing in some way, so why is she trying to bring me down?”
He listens to the harsh puff of breath, the sharp sighs coming from your lips, the clean cut of your steps as you spin at the end of a pace—pulse increasing as he slips a long finger beneath his collar
“We females are already at a disadvantage,” you go on, brow tightening now with anger, “can’t she understand that? We should stick together to help one another, not step on each other to further ourselves. It’s so backward! Why are you fighting against me when the problem is with the males in charge? Do you see what I mean? Lu? Lu—”
A hot flush warms your cheeks, thoughts instantly fading from your mind, replaced by the view before you
He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, attempting to readjust the tightness of the already close-fitting riding trousers he wears. “Continue,” he manages thickly, “I’m listening.”
But you’re done with the conversation already. Done the second you looked at him, the outline of his arousal for you so clear and prominent
“I’m glad you are, but I’m certainly not,” you murmur, already walking over to him, putting yourself into his lap, straddling his hips as you pull your skirts up, feeling that delicious press between your legs
“I think I’m in need of a distraction anyway.”
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general taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @amygdtjhddzvb @sfhsgrad-blog @needylilgal022 @hannzoaks @hnyclover @skyesayshi @nyotamalfoy
az taglist: @azrielshadows1nger @jurdanpotter @positivewitch @nightcourt-daydreaming @assassinsblade @marvelouslovely-barnes @v3lv3tf0x @kalulakunundrum @vellichor01 @throneofsmut @vickykazuya
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elliemarchetti · 2 months
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Gwynriel Weeks Day 4
I know I said I would write drabbles for this year's @gwynrielweeksofficial, but I got a little carried away.
The angst saga goes on.
Prompt: Warriors
Words: 920
War meant death, and loss, and suffering. It was horrible in all its forms, but war against a god of death and his followers was devastatingly cruel. It didn’t take place in an open field, it had nothing to do with the honour and the thrill of battle that was talked about in books. It was made of secrets, some to be kept hidden at the cost of one’s life, some to be uncovered regardless of what one had to sacrifice to do so. Gwyn didn’t think she was cut for this type of war, a constant battle between survival and feelings, between integrity and safety. She had realized it some time ago, when she would’ve died rather than leave Nesta alone on that sacred mountain she would’ve preferred to see razed to the ground, and even before, when she had sacrificed her innocence just to save the children of Sangravah. The training she had undergone after had taught her she should’ve behaved differently, be more selfish, but at the same time her mentor told her she did the right thing, making her incredibly proud.
It happened during one of their private sessions: they were both sweaty and exhausted, but battle don’t stop when you wish for it to, so her instructor had tried to end the fight as quickly as possible, to teach her a lesson and return to his rooms, where he would’ve washed the dirt away and from which he would’ve then disappeared until the next day, but he scared her, and a single tear had run down her freckled cheek. He had let her vent, he had let her cry and scream in despair and sob without ever showing the slightest sign of mercy, his fists clenched as if to keep himself from killing those responsible, souls he had already reaped during another war, against another enemy. He had saved her, and had massacred anyone who so much as laid eyes on her, yet he wouldn't tell her where he spent his nights, if he had a home in Velaris, an apartment whose location only the High Lord knew, or if he flew every night to his mother’s house.
Gwyn knew she was stupid for having fallen in love with a mystery. She realized the complexity of her feelings when no one heard from him for a while during a mission and even his closest friends began to accept the idea he might be dead. She had talked with Emerie about going after him, and had even argued with Cassian, but in the end she had waited like everyone else until he returned, unharmed and distant. Those who knew him well had told her it was normal, that Azriel never talked about what he had seen and had to do during his travels, but Gwyn wanted to know, she wanted to take that weight off his heart and see his shoulders relax under her touch. She yearned for a moment of intimacy, and prayed every night that the Mother or the Cauldron would allow her to be seen by him as a possible partner and not as a mere pupil.
“You did the right thing,” he had told her on that occasion too, when they had finally found themselves alone after weeks spent being constantly surrounded by priestesses, friends, and allies. She may have done the right thing, but she still felt guilty, because the male she loved took for granted that no one would ever come looking for him, that no one would ever enter his study looking for clues as to where he was headed.
“You could have found a mangled corpse, a rotting carcass devoid of meaning,” he had warned her, and when she told Nesta, her voice breaking at the mere thought, she had suggested that perhaps the spy’s path wasn’t her vocation.
“Nothing will ever take away the title of Valkyrie and Carynthian from you,” she reminded her during one of their sleepovers. “But maybe a role that puts such a strain on your morals isn’t what you need to heal.”
Gwyn had been tempted to agree with her, to end her training with Azriel and forget about Koschei, but when he had sent her a note in his familiar handwriting, a simple white card with a date and time to meet, her resolve crumbled and she showed up at the training arena right when the first star started to shine in the night sky. They had fought, sure, but for the first time he had taught her to recognize what was happening around her when she was deprived of her predominant sense.
“Fae and mortals are equal in this: we rely on sight because we’re used to, but when it’s taken from us we must still be able to protect ourselves and prevent the enemy from turning us into weapons,” he had explained, standing so close to her she had felt his hot breath on her neck and the ghost of his wings caressing her back. She almost fainted at the sensation, but the lesson had been helpful, more than she liked to admit.
“Do the right thing,” he had told her some weeks later in a foreign land, when their vision started to diminish and everything around them faded in pitch black darkness. A spy would’ve run, a soldier would’ve listened to the orders given by a superior, but she was a warrior, so she put his arm around her shoulders and began to trudge in search of shelter.
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safetypinxtales · 14 days
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Bored, and sad, and lonely, and can't stop thinking about azriel being absolutely smitten by you
like head over heels in love
... sooo here's a drabble 🤍
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Azriel couldn’t help it.
The way his heart rate picked up whenever he could sense your presence in a room.
The warmth that spread in his stomach whenever someone mentioned your name.
The way his cheeks heated in time with every beautiful laugh that spilled from your pouty lips. 
He couldn’t help the tingles that haunted his skin from every touch, every graze of your skin on his – no matter how slight. 
He simply couldn’t help it. So it wasn’t his fault he fell for you as hard as he did. Not when you had elicited such feelings from him, ever since the first moment he saw you. 
He knew he was a lost cause with that first smile. He had never seen eyes so bright before. So full of spirit and soul. Just gazing into them felt like taking a sip out of the pool of life. 
Being observed by them, an honour like no other. 
He had never before witnessed such beauty. 
Then you had opened your mouth, and sung the song of sirens. 
Your voice fell onto his ears like heavenly music. The words you spoke, a most divine composition.
It wasn’t his fault you had captured his heart and soul so effortlessly.
He couldn’t help falling in love with you, and everything that you are. 
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tags: @missus-shadowsinger @azrielshadows1nger @anuttellaa @tele86 @aria-chikage
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lidiasloca · 7 months
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the one where reader falls asleep on azriel (azriel x reader drabble)
(super ultra HD 4k fluff, beware)
⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄☆
it's a fact: azriel's mate will always be found sleeping in his arms, face hidden in his neck.
like, it doesn't matter if you're tired or not, you will just fall asleep
it probably has to do with his quiet calm aura, or the fact that you just feel so relaxed and safe with him.
and it is so frequent that the ic is very used to it. sometimes annoyed by it, as well.
like one game night in which you broke your record and fell asleep almost instantly.
"no, don't let her on azriel!" mor said, looking over where azriel was seated and offering you a place on his lap.
"yeah, y/n, you said you would play," feyre continued, already knowing the consequences.
"i know, and i am going to play," you answered once seated on azriel, his arms around you.
"you are going to fall asleep," rhys said flatly as he began dealing the cards.
"maybe try on my lap," cassian suggested with a grin, which earned him a growl from your mate, his arms tightening around you.
"shut up, all of you. i am going to play."
buuuut you of course failed and fell asleep once it wasn't your turn.
and azriel smiled proudly, covering your ears when cassian began his shouting with mor during the game.
and though you didn't hear azriel's "goodnight" whisper once you were sound asleep, you did feel the love he sent down the bond, making your sleep even more heavenly.
-Characters by Sarah J. Maas
i keep trying to finish a chapter for a fic I'm writing but I constantly get distracted by drabble ideas - cauldron help me, ig. hope you liked this cute little thing <;3.
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