#modern!elain

[velidewrites]

Modern!Elain on a summer holiday 🍃

moodboard requests

[gardenfaerie222]

elain archeron modern home aesthetic

I feel like she would collect vintage plates, have crystals and tarot cards, a greenhouse, brass everywhere, and her whole home would be covered in plants and paintings

anyways I love her

[utterlyotterlyx]

Hiii <3 Could you do number 4 from the prompt list with Eris? It's my first time asking for a prompt or anything so i hope this isn't rude. 😅

Aw my loveeeee it isn't rude! Request your little heart out <3

I've already done 4 but I'll do it again for you with a different spin on it.

Can't Keep My Hands To Myself

Modern!Eris x Reader

Summary - It's no secret that Eris has always wanted you, and now he has the perfect excuse to get up close and personal.

Warnings - slight pining, some fluff, swearing, hand fetish

The sun bounced off of the hood of Cassian's car, and if you looked closer you could have sworn you could see wisps of steam rising from the matte black finish.

Folding your arms over your chest, you huffed, already knowing what was coming as soon as you'd point out a certain problem.

It had been Elain's idea to go to the coast that day, mainly so that you could all go to the theme park that ran along the beach, all being yourself, Elain and Lucien, Nesta and Cassian, and Eris. The latter of which was leaning against the hood of Cassian's vehicle with a sly grin written on his lips, sunglasses low on his nose, and hands bundled into his pockets.

Eris Vanserra was the bane of your existence, the cocky son of some noble lord in England who had moved to your state for college and had set an unfortunate eye on you. The heir could have anyone he wanted, but he was too busy chasing you to notice.

Eris had crashed one too many of your dates, and when you had made it clear that he needed to stop being an alphahole, he would slyly quip that none of the men you allowed into your life deserved you. He would always show his face at Elain and Lucien's apartment when you were there, which made you certain that one of them, probably Lucien, was sending him updates whenever you would show up. Eris stuck to your side when the entire circle decided to go out, whether that be bowling or dinner, or even clubbing, Eris was always reluctant to leave your side.

Possessive bastard.

You had lost count of how many times exactly you had denied his advances. It wasn't that you weren't attracted to him, you'd be foolish not to be, but you didn't really fancy ensuing a relationship with a future lord, you quite liked your life the way it was.

You majored in architecture, you had always appreciated the beauty of buildings and landscapes, you had travelled Europe and spent weeks in Paris where you sketched and redesigned buildings until your heart was full and bursting with inspiration. There was nothing you couldn't create.

Life as a lady didn't appeal to you, but life as an architect travelling the world and creating masterpieces very much did.

So, you made it your mission to deter the heir in whatever way you could, from cold shoulders to harsh quips, but it only seemed to spur him on more.

Eris stood before you, red hair perfectly styled into pushed back waves, looking far too good in his black jeans and open collared black shirt, a thin chain hung around his neck which matched the bracelet on his wrist, rings littered his fingers and you found your gaze drifting to his hands, hands you had thought about often when you were alone. You imagined them running through your hair and pulling at it, you imagined them around your throat, you imagined his fingers drifting along your thighs and gripping the skin there.

It was so sinful how much you thought of Eris' hands.

The door opened behind you and you rolled your eyes at the Archeron sisters who walked ahead of both Cassian and Lucien, who both looked exhausted from their bickering already.

Unfurling your arms from your chest, you pulled down the edge of your tennis skirt and tucked in a loose section of the deep green polo you adorned, "About time," you told them, "I'm baking out here."

"I know a place that could cool you down," Eris drawled from behind you, and you turned your head slightly to see him at your shoulder, looking down on you with his usual longingly seductive eye, "You, me, the Swiss alps on skis."

"Sounds positively awful," you smiled sickly sweet at him before moving your attention elsewhere, "I also hate to state the obvious but there are only five seats in Cass' car, and there's six of us," you motioned between the circle you had all formed and shrugged.

"What if you-"

You held your hand up in front of Eris' face, shushing him into silence, "If you're really about to suggest that I sit on your lap, I will kill you."

Cassian threw his head back and laughed, a howling one that filled you with pride as he walked to the driver side of his car, "Hate to break it to you Princess, but you don't have a choice."

"Why me?! Surely it makes more sense for Elain and Lucien to cuddle up?"

Elain ticked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, flinging the passenger door open, "It's my birthday so no, plus Lucien injured his knee at baseball practice so he needs to be able to stretch it out. Sorry, Y/N," Elain wiggled her eyebrows at you and dipped into the car, no doubt securing her spot in the middle seat.

Scowling, you turned to Eris who had never looked happier, fluttering your eyes in annoyance, you pointed at him, "Don't get any ideas, Vanserra."

Eris threw his hands up in mock surrender but the smirk didn't leave his lips as he spoke, "Wouldn't dream of it, y/l/n."

It took you a few moments to become settled in his lap, and you cursed yourself for allowing yourself to be friends with bright and shiny Elain, if you hadn't then you wouldn't be sat on some heirs lap, nestled on his thighs like some kind of trophy.

As soon as you were comfortable, you propped your feet on Elain's lap which she was happy to hold since you drew the short straw, and you leaned back onto the doorframe, half on the body of the interior and half on Eris.

His scent was earthy, wafts of pine and freshly blown out matches, you knew he smelled good, but you didn't realise how much.

Eris draped one of his arms over your legs and the other around your waist, and you couldn't exactly bark at him to fuck off when they were the only two places that his hands could go. His fingers delicately danged off of your thighs, his fingertips lightly brushing against your skin with every bump in the road, the coolness of his bracelet clashing against the warmth of your skin.

If only his fingers could go a little higher, and just grab the flesh of your thigh...

No, y/n.

Elain had convinced the car to play a game, a game that you and Eris had quickly denied, you were both quite happy with the silence. That is until you felt him frown and lean over slightly to peer at something, his fingers drifted along the hem of your skirt and he lifted it slightly to take a peek.

Your gaze found him, his russet eyes darkened with intrigue, "I didn't know you had a tattoo," he hummed, allowing his eyes to trace along the swirls of black ink that created an arrangement of delicately drawn roses and geometric shapes that encased your entire hip.

Cassian's car hit a bump and you jolted on Eris' lap, his arms instinctively wrapped around you to keep you in place as your head hit the roof of the car, "Sorry, y/n. These roads are awful," Cassian apologised, one hand on the wheel and the other gripping Nesta's jeaned thigh, rubbing soft circles into the fabric whilst she idly read her book in the front passenger seat.

If that were you, your soul would no doubt be going feral.

Then you felt it, you felt his had travel from your waist to your unbound hair, he ran his fingertips along your scalp and rested his palm on the top of your head, "Are you okay?"

It took you a moment to reply, trying to control the shivers that spread in your soul like wildfire at his touch in the place you had dreamt of, "Yeah, 'm good," your tone was relaxed as he worked his fingertips into the crown of your head, kissing away any pain from the jolting force that had pushed against it.

"Do you like that?" Eris purred, and luckily no one was paying attention to either of you, Nesta was reading, Cassian was driving, and Elain and Lucien were looking out of the window of the travelling car talking about whatever animals they saw in the clouds.

"It might feel nice," you admitted bashfully, knowing you couldn't lie to the sly fox whose eyes always found you no matter how far apart you were in a room.

Eris let out a low hum, tilting his head to the side as his fingers slid from your scalp and rested on the back of your neck, "You're a touch starved little thing, aren't you?"

"No," it came out a little harder than what you had intended it to, but he wasn't wrong, especially when he was the reason that you were so touch starved and basking in his affection.

Eris chuckled, seeing straight through you as always, as his hand ghosted down your spine whilst his other found your thigh and gave it a gentle squeeze, smirking as you wiggled on his lap, "Careful sweetheart, you have no idea how close I am to losing it," his voice was a rough whisper in your ear, he knew exactly what effect he had on you.

"I can't help it."

"I know, you have no idea the effect you have on me," his finger grazed down the earring that dangled against the curve of your jaw.

"Oh?"

Eris hummed, "One date, y/n. It's all I ask."

"Eris..."

His digits slipped between your thighs and he traced circles into the skin he found there, "Just one. Let me show you the life we can live together. Please?"

You weren't sure if it was his deep tone or his hands on your body that made your mind foggy, but he had convinced your head and heart to agree. Moving your head to meet his eye, you narrowed your own and pursed your lips, "Fine. One date. Make it worth my time, Vanserra."

Eris' whisky amber eyes glistened in the sunlight, "I think you forget how well I know you sweetheart. You're not a coffee date girl, or a movie date girl, you're not a hiker either. You're a dreamer, I see you all of the time looking at the stars, I see the heavens in your art, I see the sky in your eyes. I think I know the perfect way to make sure you never entertain anyone other than me."

The confidence he radiated made your thighs clench together, an act that didn't go unnoticed by him as his eyes darkened again with desire, he licked his lips, throwing his head back as you squirmed on his thighs again and did his best to suppress the moan bubbling in his throat.

"One chance, Vanserra. Make the most of it."

Eris straightened his posture and winked at you, letting his hands roam freely over your back and thighs, "One chance is all I need."

Authors Note

Just a short little drabble - I did a 13 hour shift today and your girl is TIRED.

[skyjasper]

Don't call me crazy

Professor!Az X Student!Reader Modern AU

Masterlist

Summary: Y/N has been lusting after her new British professor since the first day of class, what a perfect coincidence he also becomes her private teacher in all things war and torture.

Warnings: vulgar content, smut, 18+, age gap romance, oral (Fem and Male receiving), choking, praise, dom!az.

Word count: 4207

The first time I stepped into Mr. Singers' classroom I was expecting an old white man who thought he was funny.

What I wasn’t expecting as I took my seat in the front row was for a mid-age, tan skin, handsome man with tattoos and a thick British accent to walk out of the office. I wasn’t the only girl who sighed at his devastatingly handsome face.

“Good morning class. Let’s start with basic attendance so I can put faces to names and then we will get started.” The words rolled out of his mouth with the most sensual deep British accent.

The professor for War and Peace in Historical Perspective was not at all what I thought. Not with his crisp black button-up that had to top button undone and the sleeves rolled up. Not with the inky shadows that peaked up the collar of his shirt and down his very muscular forearm.

I was too busy daydreaming about those muscular forearms holding my waist to hear him call my name.

“Mrs. Y/N?” He asked again, which I only heard because of my seatmate elbowing me.

“Here.” I hesitantly lifted my hand, slowly sinking back into my seat out of embarrassment. His gaze fell upon me with his golden honey eyes.

“Next time, if you choose to be in the front, be more present.” He scolded me before moving on. A blush rose over my cheeks with the stern words.

~~~~

My War and Peace class hadn’t necessarily gotten better but also not worse. My work excelled and I never got below a B. So one could imagine my disappointment when my latest paper on Torture Tactics in War got a C-.

Mr. Singers' hand stayed on my desk as he whispered into my ear.

“See me after class or during office hours today.” His deep voice rolled through my body, shooting straight in between my thighs.

Was it inappropriate to have a huge sexual crush on my teacher who was 20+ my senior? Absolutely. Did it stop me? No. Goosebumps rolled down my bare legs and under my pleated white skirt. I nodded my head quickly as he moved to the next student.

After mentally going through my schedule I decided it would be best to stop by during office hours later.

~~~

My fist lightly knocked on Mr. Singers' office door.

“Come in.” He rumbled.

I opened the door before stepping into the dark space. His dark mahogany desk was neat and organized with papers and notes. The room only being illuminated by a tall lamp in one corner and a smaller salt lamp in the other corner.

“You wanted to see me?” I ask as my hands pull at the end of my navy sweater.

“Ah, yes Mrs. Y/N I wanted to discuss your last paper. Sit.” He nodded to the chair across from him. My feet moved on their own accord to sit, as if aching to obey his every word.

“Yeah I saw I got a C- and I was pretty confused. Is there any way I could revise the paper? I planned on using the topic for my dissertation.” I pulled out the printed paper from my bag.

He watched my every movement very closely. His eyes raked my body from my white headband, over my navy blue sweater and white skirt, and down my bare legs that were currently crossed.

“Yes, the topic is very good however the research is not accurate which in turn made most of your paper inaccurate. I was very disappointed to have to give you a C. You are a bright girl Y/N. I know you have a bright future in history, so I do want to work with you so you can gain better research skills and a better understanding of the topic.” He spoke, moving his dark round glasses back onto his face.

The glasses gave him a nerdy Clark Kent look. The glasses made me want to rip off his shirt and ride him. My thighs squeezed a bit tighter at the warmth that pooled in the lowest parts of me. I nodded with understanding before he continued.

“I specialized in War Torture when I was in school. I interviewed real victims and studied the methods and techniques.” He paused pushing up his sleeves and leaning back before continuing. “In the least creepy way possible, I became a master of torture and its history. When I decide I want to know something, I won’t stop until I devour all I can about it.” He finished.

I think I was delirious because I swear that last phrase was an innuendo. My toes curled in my black boots.

“I understand, and I would love your help since you’re so knowledgeable about it. I double majored in History and Journalism so I could research. How would this work? Should I stay after class or come to office hours?” I asked with a tilt of my head, I felt my hair fall off of one shoulder as I did so.

“How about it this, every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday you stop by at let’s say 5:30? Right after office hours so that way we don’t take time from other students.” He asked with his eyebrows raised.

“That works for me! Is there anything I should bring sir?” I asked as I gathered my things.

“Maybe a notebook and your laptop for notes. Other than that we can wing it as we go.” He finished with a small smile and a shrug of one shoulder.

We said goodbyes before I walked out of his office, my thighs now slick in anticipation.

~~~

“Today I figured we could work on the actual technical details of the methods. It is important to understand the thought behind each movement.” Azriel spoke as I walked into his office.

We have been doing this mentorship for the last two months so far. It’s been going well, both of us flirting now and again but never quite crossing the line. He asked me to call him by his first name outside of class, and what a beautiful name he had. Azriel.

I felt his eyes take over my outfit choice for the day. With the warmer weather, my skirt and sweater combo has become more rare. Today I wore a tight white skirt with a cropped white tank top with a thin dark blue cardigan over it and some platform boots. even with my platforms Azriel still stood over me.

“You-you want me to torture you?” My breath hitched with the statement. He let out a small chuckle under his breath.

“No, I’m going to see if you can handle the most basic form of torture. If we can’t understand what torture feels like how can we accurately report it?” He said while moving close to me.

“So what are you going to do to me Mr.Singer?” I asked looking up into his eyes.

“Sensory deprivation. We start with sight, sit down.” He voices as he walks behind me and gently pushes on my shoulder to sit me down.

I took deep breaths as his large hands brought a thick strip of black fabric in front of my face. I felt his presence all too well as he placed the cloth over my eyes and tied it behind my head.

“They start with sensory tactics because there is nothing quite like the paranoia of not being able to see your capturers and what they are doing.” He spoke, his voice drawing quieter as if he moved across the room.

“For example,” He whispered in my ear, easing a small jump out of me. I hadn’t heard his come back, his footsteps silent.

“You have no idea what I’m about to do to you.” He whispered in my other ear, running his fingers over my shoulder. Goosebumps appeared in his wake.

“Can I remove my cardigan? It’s warm in here.” I asked before my fingers fumbled to find the bow holding the top of my cardigan closed. I felt a pair of hands wrap around my own small hands. His fingers slide over mine, quickly pulling the strings of the bow and slowly sliding my cardigan off.

“How are you feeling?” His voice rumbled thick with an accent as he took my cardigan out of my lap.

“I’m ok, it just feels like everything is heightened. Like I can feel everything around me, every breath, every touch. How is this torture?” I whispered with a shaky breath. I know his touch could be innocent but with the massive want between us, every touch feels like he’s about to fuck me.

“It isn’t yet, the next thing they would do would be take away your hearing, they would play sounds that would drive you insane. I’m not going to subject you to that however I am going to create certain sounds and I want you to identify the sounds and objects. Knowing how to use the heightened hearing to your advantage is something that could be very useful in a situation like this.” This time I heard his steps, like he purposefully made them louder.

I gave a nod, moving my hands under my thighs to keep from fidgeting. The first sound I heard sounded like glass. I waited another second before responding to be sure.

“Is it a glass? Like a cup?” I tilted my head towards the sound.

“Yes very good. Would you like some water Y/N?” I felt his approach to my front. I gave another quick nod, sticking out my hands for the cup.

“Ha, knowing you if I tried to hand you this glass you would spill it all over yourself.” He chuckled under his breath.

“You’re not wrong, but how else am I supposed to drink the water?” I lifted a curious brow even though he couldn’t see it.

“Tilt your head back.”

A simple command, yet hearing it set my body alight. I felt warmth gather low in my belly as I did what he asked. As I felt his fingers grasp my chin, pulling open my mouth, I felt that warmth seep out of me. I tried to cross my legs, not realizing how close he truly was.

“Is something wrong Y/N?” He asked with what sounded like knowingness in his voice. I tried to shake my head but couldn’t because of his grip.

“Use your words.” He spoke again. More heat seeped into my panties at his command.

“Nope, nothing's wrong.” My voice came out more breathless than intended.

He hummed before touching the cold rim of the glass to my bottom lip. I felt him tip back my head some more before pouring in the water.

“Would you like to know something Y/N?” He asked as he closed my mouth, allowing me to swallow with a gulp.

“What’s that Mr.Singer?” I asked, feeling his thumb coming up to wipe a small dribble of water that escaped my lips.

“You look divine like this, I can only imagine what you would look like if I could see your eyes.” He whispered as his hand moved from my jaw into my hair.

I sucked in a harsh breath before lifting my hands to remove the blindfold that prevents me from seeing him.

“Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. I didn’t say you could take it off just yet.” His voice was light and full of amusement. Then the entire room shifted as his hand fisted my hair and brought my face closer to his.

I felt his heated gaze take over my body as his breaths gained speed. Then I heard the most torturous sound leave his lips. A groan that sounded like I hit him. Then his heat was gone, all contact broken.

“I shouldn’t do this. You’re my student.” He spoke with anguish. I stood quickly, a little too quickly by the way I swayed. I felt his arms wrap around my waist, steadying me. One hand found the tie holding together the blindfold, I quickly undid it and let it fall to the floor.

My eyes raked over his chest as I adjusted to the light. Did he get hotter while I couldn’t see? His shirt was messy like he had been raking his hands over it. And when I tilted my head to meet his eyes, a whole head and a half taller than me, the hunger I found there was insatiable. And whatever he found my eyes must have changed something for him.

“Fuck it.” He whispered before pulling my head closer to him, smashing my lips into his. I melted as he kissed me.

He kissed me like he was a man dying of starvation and I was his only food source. The hand that was holding the back of my neck moved into my hair pulling it tightly. He ripped his mouth from mine with a gasp.

“Fuck.” He muttered with a new horse and raspy voice. There was a war in his eyes, a conflicting battle.

I decided to end that battle by slipping one of my fingers over his black button-up, slowly undoing each button. When his chest was fully revealed I took a second to marvel at the gorgeous tattoo that spanned his entire muscles chest before pressing a kiss into his pecks.

“Please, Mr.Singer?” I asked, looking up at him with doe eyes and using my softest voice. I saw the battle end and that hunger take over again.

“Jesus fuck, you will be the death of me, baby.” He grunted as his hands slid under my thighs and lifted me onto his desk.

A smile overtook my face as his hands gripped my ass. I gently tugged on the open shirt, asking for him to remove it. I almost let out a cry at the loss of his heat. He pulled his shirt off in one fluid motion, stepping back in between my spread legs.

Azriel slants his mouth over mine once again, his hands grazing over my bare thighs, reaching under my skirt. I let out a small moan when his fingers gripped my thighs.

“Do you like that Y/N?” He asked with a raised eyebrow before sliding his hands under my thighs and pulling me to the edge of the desk.

“God yes, Mr. Singer.” I moaned as he continued to manhandle me. His hands roamed from my thighs to my waist pulling my chest into his.

“Fuck I love the way you say my name. But I love your beautiful tits even more.” He grunted out before pulling my tank top down.

“You have no idea how many times you’ve distracted me in class. Prancing around in these tiny skirts without any tights and your tiny tops. The number of times I’m lecturing and all I can look at are your beautiful thighs.” He ground out as he brought his mouth to my nipples.

A wave of pleasure rolled through me as his tongue swirled my nipped. A loud moan fell out of my mouth when he lightly bit it. My hips bucked forward, almost causing me to fall off the desk but his hands were there, sliding me back onto the steady table.

“Careful there baby. Tell me what you need.” His breath whispered over my nipples with a shuttering sensation.

“You. I need you Azriel.” I whined, grinding my hips into the air. He fell to his knees, his hands pushing my skirt up.

“How do you need me? Do you need my tongue?” He asked as he licked a line from the base of my core to my clit, letting his tongue linger with an audible groan.

“Do you need my fingers?” His strong fingers followed his tongue, drawing a line through my wetness and swirling around my clit, causing me to gasp. My hand reached for my nipple as he paused, leaning back to look at me. After a beat of silence and direct eye contact, he said,

“Or do you need my cock?”

I’m pretty sure I almost orgasmed from those words alone, but I still replied.

“I don’t know, just please. Touch me. Anything, please.” I begged as my hips writhed against the desk. A wicked cruel look came into his eyes.

“Please what? If you’re gonna beg you might wanna address who you’re begging too.” An eyebrow hitched as he slowly brought the finger that hand wiped my wetness to his lips. Rubbing my arousal onto his lips.

“Please, Mr.Singer. I don’t care how but I need you to fuck me.” I whined out.

“Good girl.” My body came alive at the praise and the sight of him moving forward, face into my pussy.

His tongue licked another stripe before sucking on my clit over my panties. One of my hands fell to his hair, holding him into me as he continued to eat me like his life depended on it. His fingers slid up my thighs before grabbing the waistband of my panties and tugging them down. The cold air sent shivers down my spine as he hesitated.

“Mr.Singer?” I asked, looking down at where he sat with his eyes locked on my bare core.

“You are so fucking beautiful. I haven’t stopped thinking about this since the first day of class so I’m going to enjoy it,” he whispered in a daze. His hand forced my legs open even wider, completely exposing me to him.

His thick fingers traced every part of me as one of his hands fell to his hard erection in his pants. My gaze slid down to stare at the now bulging point in his black briefs. I took a moment to truly appreciate the sight before me.

One of the hottest men sitting on his knees, palm rubbing himself, his lips glistening with my arousal, hair a tossed mess from my fingers, and those damn tattoos that moved with each of his breaths. I nearly came at the sight.

I closed my legs, nimbly sliding onto the floor in front of him. My knees hit the hard floor as his gaze dragged over my bouncing tits. One of my hands found his belt and tugged, trying my best to convey what I wanted without words.

He stood quickly, one hand unbuckling his belt and pulling it off in a fast and clean motion. He took a second to wrap up the belt and place it on his desk, not once breaking eye contact. My thin hands slid up his legs, quickly unbuttoning his pants and pulling them down.

His cock sprang free with a small bounce. A small gasp left my mouth as I beheld the sight of his long and thick cock that has barbell piercings along the shaft. I rubbed my thumb over his head, collecting the small bit of pre-cum, and sucked it into my mouth.

Azriels head fell back with a groan, one that became even louder as one of my hands wrapped around his length. I let my lips softly kiss the head of his cock before sucking it into my mouth. I took a minute to warm up to his size before looking up at him.

The second I made eye contact his hand flew to my hair and forced me down on his cock. Tears welled in my eyes as I struggled to take it all.

“Come on, be a good girl and take my cock, pretty girl.” He ground out as his thumb from his free hand smudged my mascara with my tears.

I moaned around his cock and I forced myself up and down him. He was too long to fit in my mouth so with what I couldn’t swallow I used my hand. I pulled off of his cock with a pop, leaning forward and spitting on it before using two hands to jerk him. I moved his cock over my chest, savoring the professor's low groans and curses.

I felt two strong arms slid under my arms, stopping my movement. He picked me up until I was face to face with him and my feet were dangling. He started at me with so much heat to anyone else it might seem like anger. He slid his arms to my waist and pulled my body against him as I kissed me. On instinct, my legs wrapped around his waist, lining me up perfectly to feel the head of his cock push against me.

We both gasped at the contact. It didn’t take him long to walk us over to the wall by the chair, pushing me against it and thrusting his cock so he slid through my folds. A loud moan leaves my mouth when he hits my clit.

“I need you. I’m clean, please fuck me Azriel.” I begged.

A long and overdrawn “Fuck” left his bruised lips. One of his hands guided his cock to line up with my hole.

“I’m gonna fuck you, it’s not gonna be sweet, and it’s not going to be slow. It’ll be hard, and dirty, but fuck will it feel good. Is that ok baby?” He tormented me by nudging the very tip of him into me.

“Yes, god yes.” I threw my head against the wall. I would do anything to just put him inside me.

“Good, I want you to ride me, I wanna see those beautiful tits bounce as you struggle to take me in your little cunt.” He whispered into my ear before moving us so he was sitting on the chair and I was sitting on his thigh. I rubbed against his thigh for any friction I could get.

“Fuck you’re killing me.” His hands ran up and down my sides, as I readjusted myself so I was hovering over his cock.

One of my hands gripped his shaft helping me to sit on his cock. I did it slowly, letting myself feel each inch, feel the stretch of him. We both moaned at the sensation, and he didn’t give me much time to adjust before his hands were moving my hips.

I moved with his hands, grinding on his cock, watching his face contort in pleasure.

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt something as good as this. You are perfect.” He said as he tilted his head back. I started to move up and down on his shaft, every so often switching to grinding against him.

His head snapped back to lock me in the eye before his hands found my hips with a bruising grip, stopping my bouncing. He thrust his hips up, hard and fast.

“Oh fuck.” I screamed out as he continued to fuck me.

His arms enclosed my waist fully, holding me to his chest as my fingers raked the strong muscles.

“You’re so good, thank you sir.” I moaned and pulled my nails down so hard I left marks.

His replying hum was more than enough for me as he moved his lips to suck on the sensitive spot between my neck and ear.

I felt a tight tension run down my spine as my orgasm grew closer. He let me grab one of his hands, and I guided it around my throat, gently squeezing to signal what I wanted.

“You want me to choke you? Maybe you did pick the right field.” He muttered with a condescending laugh. But still, he obliged, squeezing the sides so I got that beautiful blood rush. His pace quickened as I tightened around him.

“Cum baby, milk my cock with your cunt. Be my good girl and cum.” He said before he licked a strip of my neck.

My orgasm shook my body with a force that I hadn’t felt before. Frat guys are notorious for not making girls cum. My cunt squeezed him as he jerked up into my cunt before pulling out. I whimper at the loss of contact before I felt ropes of his cum paint my stomach, just where it would be if he were inside me.

As I came down from my high I felt his fingers dragging up my stomach, collecting his cum onto his digits. He brought them to my mouth and pushed them into my lips. I took no time licking them clean of his cum and sucking them like they were his cock. I kept my most innocent eyes as I swirled my tongue around them and popped them out of my mouth.

“One day I want to see your mouth full of my cum. For now, I need to clean you up and get you back to my place.” He gently lifted me and sat me down on the couch before turning and getting a rag out of his office cabinet.

He sunk to his knees before me, gently wiping me clean and muttering praises. My mind was a puddle and my body was spent. He gently pulled my tank top back up and covered me with his suit jacket. We made sure the coast was clear before walking to his car and driving to his apartment where we spent the rest of the night fucking, cuddling, and getting to know each other better.

~~~

A/N: here it is!!!!!! Next up, chapt 4 of S&S!!!!!!!

Taglist: @littlelunatica @going-through-shit @annaaaaa88 @i-am-infinite @impossibelle

[teddyhoneybear]

Modern AU

Elain and Lucien in the '40s-'50s

[animezinglife]

"The humblest tasks get beautiful when loving hands do them." - Louisa May Alcott, Little Women Modern (Cottagecore) Elain Archeron Moodboard

[duskandcobalt]

Everywhere, Everything: Chapter Four

Chapter Summary: Azriel meets Elain’s new boyfriend at Nyx’s birthday party. Graysen has some questions about Elain’s “friend.”

Word Count: 4.4K

Missed the first three chapters? You can find the Masterlist for this fic here 🥰

A/N: chapter four already!! Thank you to everyone that’s read this fic and commented or interacted in anyway! I’ve had the loveliest messages come through and it’s been such a joy to chat with you guys about this. I’m a little extra nervous to post this chapter, please keep in mind that this is a bit of a slow burn and we must suffer a little before we get our reward. Alternate title is “Graysen Slander (Azriel’s version)”

ENJOY XX

Read on AO3

Flying back home to Velaris had caused Elain a level of anxiety that had previously been unknown to her.

There used to be a time where she enjoyed seeing her city from the birds-eye-view of an airplane window. She loved to look down and admire the twinkling lights on either side of the sprawling river that split her hometown in half. She liked to scan the buildings as they came into view and point out each place that held a space of her heart because of the special memories attached.

There was her elementary school, the movie theater parking lot where she had her first kiss, and her favourite library. There was the ice-cream shop located a few blocks from their childhood home that she and her sisters would sneak out to at all hours of the night for their cookie dough fix, not bothering to change out of their robes and slippers. She’d look out for the small park where she and Nesta spent their Saturday’s sprawled in the grass, reading books and gossiping. Her heart ached as she spotted the rose and sculpture garden she and Azriel liked to stroll through early on Sunday mornings, hot cups of coffee warming their hands as they walked and talked, Azriel leaning in close to tell Elain that the roses there had nothing on the ones that she grew in her garden.

She hadn’t bothered to point any of those places out to Graysen as their flight had made its descent. Hadn't really felt the need or desire to share those parts of herself with him. She’d just sat quietly, staring straight at her own reflection in the little screen in front of her as she took deep breaths to try and ease the rapid beating of her heart.

Her anxiety had calmed a little once they’d landed and disembarked, emerging from their gate to Nyx’s loud squeal of her name which brought her back to reality just in time for her to drop her bags and catch his tiny body as he ran towards her at full speed and flung himself into her outstretched arms. 

“Hi, baby!” She’d hugged him tight, overwhelmed by just how much she’d missed him.

“Hi, Lain!” Nyx giggled, his little face tucked tight against her neck.

She hadn’t questioned the nickname, one her nephew had never called her before, because she had been too distracted breathing in the scent of his hair - the scent of the same watermelon shampoo that her mother had used during bath time when she and her sisters were kids. It was comforting and familiar and exactly what she needed to push past the worry that had rendered her useless for the past few hours.. 

The initial introductions had gone as well as she could’ve hoped.

Graysen had defaulted back to the easy charm that he’d used back in the day to talk Elain into a drink and it seemed to work on Feyre and Rhys well enough that the drive back to their house and the late dinner that followed were easy and painless. The only hiccup was that Nyx refused to even greet Graysen and had thrown him the most menacing looks he could muster up each time Graysen so much as attempted to hold Elain’s hand. 

“He’s jealous,” Feyre had laughed nervously, embarrassed by her son’s behavior after he’d insisted on sitting next to Elain at dinner. “He’s always been a little territorial when it comes to her and since he hasn’t seen her in a few months…” 

Graysen had laughed it off but Elain had caught the annoyance in his demeanor at the idea of having to share her. Even if the person he was sharing her with was just her soon-to-be five year old nephew. 

Elain’s anxiety returned in full force the next afternoon when guests began to arrive for Nyx’s party. No amount of rearranging balloons or organising the treat station could keep her attention off the front door each and every time it opened. It was only a matter of time before he showed up and the wait was torture. In the years she’d known Azriel, he’d never once missed an important event when it came to his friends and there was no way he’d start now. 

“So…” Nesta appeared next to her suddenly, head cocked to the side as she leant against the table and watched in amusement as Elain straightened the goodie bags for the seventh or eighth time that hour. “Graysen seems nice.” 

“Yeah,” Elain nodded, not bothering to look up from the little cellophane bags full of treats that she’d been busying herself with for the last ten minutes. She didn’t need to look at Nesta to know her true feelings. She could hear it in her voice. “He’s great.” 

“He’s very… passionate.” Her sister studied her nails as she fought to hold back the teasing smile that played on her lips.  “About work. And golf. And work. And his car… Did I mention his work? Because he certainly did.” 

“Okay, okay.” Elain groaned, casting a fleeting glance across the room where Graysen was still chatting to Rhysand. 

She sent a thank you to the universe that Feyre had married a man that had the talent and patience to talk to absolutely anyone. She couldn’t say the same for Cassian, who had quickly maneuvered out of that conversation and over to the backyard to terrorize the kids, instead. 

“He just loves his job,” Elain shrugged, finally turning to face her sister. 

Nesta raised a perfectly manicured brow, fixing Elain with a pointed look. “You mean he loves money.” 

There was a reason Elain had never introduced a boy to her family and the reason was standing directly in front of her, all perfectly coiffed hair and dangerous eyes. Feyre could find a way to see the good in anyone and the boys would say they were okay with whoever Elain dated as long as she was happy. But Nesta - Nesta had always had a knack for seeing straight through any of Elain’s lies and she’d never been afraid to call her out when necessary. It was a quality Elain had come to appreciate from time to time but she didn’t appreciate it today.

“I mean… he does work in finance.” 

“Elain.” Another pointed look was thrown in her direction.

“Nesta.” 

“He looks like he pays more for a haircut than I do.” 

“Nesta!” Elain hit her sister on the arm, unable to stifle the laugh that bubbled to the surface. She knew exactly how much Graysen paid for his hair cuts and Nesta was right. “He’s nice.”

“You know who’s nicer...” Nesta said it under her breath but Elain heard her loud and clear. 

“Stop,” Elain lowered her voice. “Please. You promised.”

“I promised I wouldn’t tell the boys and I haven’t,” she replied without missing a beat. “I never promised we wouldn’t talk about it at all.” 

“Nesta, please. I can’t talk about this now.”

What Elain really wanted to say was that she couldn’t talk about this ever, but she knew that would only result in more back and forth and right now all she wanted was for this conversation to be over.

“He’s miserable, El.” Nesta lowered her voice to match Elain’s. “He’s very good at acting like he’s fine but he’s not. You just left and I know you’ve cut him off completely since and -”

“I haven’t spoken to anyone, really. It’s not like I’ve only stopped talking to hi-” Elain abruptly stopped speaking, standing up straight and plastering a smile on her face just as she spotted Graysen beginning to make his way towards them.

He didn’t have a chance to say anything, had only just managed to sling an arm around Elain’s waist when the front door swung open and Shadow came flying through. She was nothing but a black blur, ducking and dodging around furniture as she ran straight through to the kitchen. She paused in front of Rhys for a quick hello before she made a beeline towards where Elain stood with Nesta and Graysen by the dining room table. 

Her long tail wagged furiously, whipping against the wooden leg of the table. Shadow was seemingly unbothered, too busy flailing around happily between Nesta’s legs before she finally came to a stop in front of Elain. Her long snout nuzzled into Elain’s open palm and her lean body leant heavily against her thighs.

Much like Nyx, Shadow paid Graysen little to no attention other than to sniff  in his direction just once which Elain thought quite strange given that Shadow loved meeting new people and she’d famously always favored the company of men. 

“Hi, Shadow girl!” Elain cooed, crouching down to properly greet the dog that had come to feel like her own over the years. She’d gone with Azriel the day he’d picked her up and brought her home, had even helped name her. “Look how gray you’ve gotten!”

“She’ll be nine next week.”

The timber of his voice hit her at the exact same time as the familiar scent of his cedar cologne and Elain was suddenly grateful that she was already on the ground because if she’d been standing, she was sure her knees would’ve given out completely.

Elain swallowed her nerves, raising her eyes from Shadow’s sweet salt and pepper face to look up at Azriel only to find that every bit of his attention was focused solely on her.

“Hi, Lain.”

There were a couple beats of silence before Elain got a hold of herself and stood up. She stepped forward and before she could stop herself, she raised onto the very tips of her toes and wound her arms around his neck. Azriel’s arms wrapped around her waist in turn, tentatively at first before she felt his fingers flex against the middle of her back as he relaxed, readjusting his grip to pull her tight against his chest as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Probably because it had been at one point in time.

“Hi, Az.” She whispered into his neck, breathing in the divine scent of him. The scent of home.

“Hey, Azriel!” Nesta said loudly from behind them, effectively breaking the trance that Elain had unwittingly found herself in. 

She let go of Azriel quickly and took a large step back, bumping into the dining table, as Nesta took her place in his arms. 

She was only just aware of Graysen staring at her in her peripheral, his hand once again heavy against her hip.

“Were you planning on introducing me?” He asked her as Azriel and Nesta separated and Azriel turned to face them again. Elain hadn’t noticed that she’d been staring dumbly straight ahead - directly at Azriel’s chest. 

He was wearing an oatmeal coloured fisherman’s sweater that she’d told him she loved on him more than a few times and a small, stupid part of her wondered if she crossed his mind when he slipped it on this morning.

“Oh, yes!” She shook her head, laughing nervously. “Um, Az… this is Graysen, my uh…”

“Boyfriend.” Graysen finished the sentence for her, extending his hand towards Azriel. “And you are…”

“This is Azriel. My…. Azriel.” Elain stuttered as she watched the two men shake hands.

She allowed herself the tiniest shake of her head to ease the frustration she felt towards herself. She sounded like an absolute idiot.

“I think I’ve missed something,” Graysen looked between Elain and Azriel, eyebrows lifting slightly. “How do you know each other?

“We’re good friends.” Azriel answered at the same time Elain said “He’s Rhys’ best friend.”

Jesus. Fucking. Christ. 

She couldn’t possibly have handled that any worse.

“So you’re Rhys’ friend or Elain’s friend?” Graysen asked, the slightest hint of a frown forming on his lips. 

Any hope that Elain had of him dropping this topic evaporated in front of her eyes.

“We’re all friends. We met through Rhys when he started dating Feyre and we all spent basically all our time together.” She answered quickly, briefly meeting Azriel’s eyes.

Another mistake. 

All she saw was hurt. No one else would’ve noticed because the emotion was there and gone in a flash but Elain saw past the mask. She saw the hurt she’d caused him. Hurt at being reduced to a friend of a friend, as if he wasn’t so much more to her. As if they hadn’t spent years of their lives seeing each other almost every day. Trading secrets. Letting each other see parts of themselves they’d never allowed anyone else to see.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Azriel smiled politely, redirecting his attention to Graysen. “I’m gonna go find the birthday boy but I’ll talk to you guys later, I’m sure.”

He didn’t look at her again before he walked away, Shadow obediently following right behind him. Even Nesta quickly excused herself so she didn’t have to be around to witness the uncomfortable tension that had settled heavily between Elain and Graysen..

She had absolutely no idea what had come over her. She thought she’d been somewhat prepared to see him again but nothing could’ve prepared her for the reality of him standing in front of her. Smiling at her. The feel of his arms around her - strong and sure and familiar. Nothing could have prepared her for seeing him walk away from her, disappointment lingering behind his eyes. She’d done that to him and she hated herself for it.

She silently cursed herself for ever thinking that bringing Graysen back here would be a good idea. Mere minutes had passed and she’d already fucked up. She had no idea how the hell she was supposed to make it through this day, let alone survive an entire weekend of this.

“What the hell was that?” Graysen muttered as Elain turned in his arms, once again plastering on a smile in a last ditch effort to rectify the mess she’d just made of that introduction.

“Nothing,” She shook her head, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “That was nothing.”

… 

When Azriel walked into Rhys and Feyre’s house earlier and caught a glimpse of Elain for the first time in four months, she was wearing another one of those dresses that threatened to send him to his knees. 

He loved each and every one of her dresses but the one she wore today was a pale blue with delicate straps that tied at her shoulders and draped elegantly over her frame in a way that just about teased at each dip and curve concealed by the lightweight, silky material. It was perfectly demure for a children’s birthday party but something about that dress on her was downright sinful. 

Maybe if the circumstances were different, he’d be able to steal a glance every now and then and attempt to carry on with his life, but the circumstances were not different and Azriel was cursed to get through this afternoon looking at Elain in that dress with some other guy’s arm around her waist. 

He hadn’t been able to get her out of his head. Even if he had no right to think of her in that way. Not when she’d made it abundantly clear not once but twice now, that she didn’t want him like that. Still, he couldn’t help that the memory of her kneeling on his bed and tracing a path across his hips with that pretty mouth of hers came rushing back to the forefront of his mind in the ten or so seconds that she’d been on her knees in front of him, patting his dog and looking up at him with those big, brown eyes. 

Any satisfaction that he’d gotten from that memory or simply from seeing her and having her in his arms again, disappeared the second she stepped back and he’d been introduced to her boyfriend.

He knew there was something off with the way they interacted within the first few minutes of watching them together that afternoon. Azriel knew that the smiles she gave him weren’t genuine because they never quite reached her eyes. Elain evaded Graysen’s touch, swiveling out of his grasp each and every time he went to put his hand on her hip, ducking her head so the kiss he intended to give her landed on her forehead instead of her lips. 

He wondered how no one else seemed to notice it when he could see it so clearly. He was in tune with her every emotion, knew her better than he knew the back of his own hand. He’d had time to hone that skill and right now, the piece of his brain that was dedicated solely to her was screaming that something wasn’t right. 

Azriel hated the way she acted around him. Hated the way Graysen acted towards her. Actually, Azriel just outright despised Graysen.

He’d come into this day wanting the best. He genuinely wanted to see Elain happy even if the notion of her being with anyone else made his chest constrict in a way that couldn’t possibly be healthy. But he knew she wasn’t happy and one handshake was all it took for Azriel to know exactly what kind of guy Graysen was.

His grip had been firm but his hands bore no evidence of ever doing anything more difficult than swinging a heavy golf club. Graysen had a smile befitting of a politician’s son - charming but edged with insincerity, like he’d do or say whatever was necessary to get what he wanted. He carried himself with the ease of someone that had had things handed to him on a silver platter for his whole life and there was a certain arrogance to him that had Azriel wondering what Elain could possibly see in him. He knew her well enough to know that it wouldn’t have been the expensive clothing or the twenty thousand dollar watch on his wrist that had piqued her interest just like he knew that the glittering diamond tennis bracelet circling her wrist was for Graysen’s benefit and not hers.

He’d endeavored to try and find out if the guy had any redeeming qualities at all to help Azriel come to terms with them being together but he’d been stopped every time he’d tried to approach Graysen.

Azriel almost found it amusing the way Elain had been running what could be considered award winning interference between himself and her boyfriend all day, somehow managing to keep them well away from each other in and amongst entertaining her nephew and his flock of tiny friends. But now that all Nyx’s friends and their parents had gone home and the sun was beginning to set, there was very little Elain could do to keep them from speaking. 

Graysen had started the conversation as they sat on the couch next to each other, just behind where Elain was sitting on the floor helping Nyx unwrap the copious amounts of presents he’d received today. Graysen asked Azriel about how he had met Rhys and Azriel explained that they’d met when they were kids and Rhys’ family had all but adopted him as one of their own. The topic had turned to Velaris and Azriel had sat through mind-numbing comments about how the river looked nicer in pictures, how things closed too early, and how there was no real potential for growth. 

He’d just nodded and shrugged wherever he thought appropriate and he’d failed to get more than a sentence in but then Cassian had asked if Azriel was still planning on staying at their place after dinner with everyone the next night and when Azriel had answered that he would as long as he managed to finish the ring he’d been working on, Graysen had suddenly had a lot of questions. 

“So you set up a little stall at what? … Weekend farmers markets? Sell jewelry to old ladies and teenage girls?”  Graysen asked after Azriel patiently explained exactly why he was making jewelry. “And you make money from that?”

Azriel noticed the way Elain stiffened at the condescending tone of Graysen’s voice. The snide way he laughed as he reduced Azriel’s work to the equivalent of a children’s roadside lemonade stand. She set down the toy she’d been unboxing for Nyx and swiveled around to face them.

“He’s not making jewelry with dollar store plastic beads, Gray.” It was maybe the most fed up Azriel had ever heard her sound. He’d always known her to stay quiet and avoid confrontation. He didn’t even need one hand to count all the times he’d seen her snap and each of those times had been at Feyre or Nesta so he didn’t really count them. “It’s his business and he’s done really well.”

“It’s fine, Lain.” Azriel said softly, his heart swelling in his chest at the way she defended him even if he was unbothered by Graysen’s comments. It was nothing he hadn’t heard before from his own father or brothers. He continued to speak, confidently taking Graysen’s questions in stride in a way that Elain hadn’t quite been able to.“I actually work in data security but I make jewelry in my spare time and sell custom pieces online. Although, I did have some pretty successful mornings at farmer’s markets when I was just starting out and -”

“I thought you didn’t like being called that.” Graysen interrupted him, calculating eyes shifting from Azriel to Elain.

“What?” Elain asked, eyebrows furrowed in a way that Azriel would’ve found endearing in any other circumstance.

“He calls you ‘Lain.’” Graysen replied. “You told me you hated when I called you that.”

“I just prefer ‘El,’” She shrugged, picking at the sleeve of the cream cardigan she’d thrown on over her dress. “And he isn’t the only one. Nyx has called me that all day today, as well.” 

Azriel stayed silent. He knew exactly where Nyx had picked that nickname up from but he wasn’t about to expose himself for cornering his friend’s kid into multiple conversations with the secret agenda of trying to siphon information about what Nyx’s Auntie was up to these days. 

Graysen huffed, crossing his arms like an overgrown child as he sat back. He’d dropped his line of inquisition for now but Azriel had a feeling that wasn’t the last Elain would hear of this topic and the thought made him sick.

He’d been carefully watching all afternoon - noticing the way Graysen spoke about Elain and the possessive way he touched her as if she was something to have or to own. It had turned his stomach, memories of the way he’d seen his father treat his mother seeping into his mind despite his best efforts to keep them at bay.

Azriel paid extra attention to him now, picking up the way Graysen acted towards Elain as he continued to answer questions about his jewelry. He cringed at the scowl that found a home on Graysen’s lips each time her attention was pulled away from him and the way that scowl only deepened at each passing remark that hinted that maybe Azriel and Elain had, in fact, been closer than what she might’ve alluded to earlier. 

He wasn’t sure exactly what she’d told Graysen about him. He had a feeling she hadn’t told him much at all. But he saw the wheels turning in Graysen’s head when Azriel’s craft came up again and Azriel explained exactly what type of jewelry he made and Graysen’s eyes had drifted to the chain that had faithfully stayed clasped around Elain’s neck year after year. 

His suspicions were confirmed an hour or so later when Azriel rounded a corner, making his way towards the powder room at the foot of the stairs only to stop halfway there when he was distracted by a pair of low voices coming from Rhysand’s office across the hallway. 

It was just a simple hushed whisper but his ears perked up at the voice he’d come to find grating over this very long, very tortuous day. 

He could hear his mother’s voice in his head telling him that it wasn’t polite to eavesdrop, that nothing good every came from it, but he couldn’t help himself as he stood there - still as night, locking in on the hushed conversation and blocking out the raucous laughter coming from the kitchen. 

“You know what I find most interesting about all of this?” Azriel heard Graysen ask. “In four months, I’ve heard about your sisters and their husbands but you haven’t even mentioned his name once.”

“He’s just a friend,” Elain answered quietly. “I swear.”

“Right,” Graysen scoffed. “And I suppose he’s the friend that gave you that necklace?”

Azriel swallowed,  his eyes pinching closed at the animosity - the clear jealousy - that laced Graysen’s question. He could hear the malice in the way he spat out the word ‘friend’. He could only imagine the way he’d be glaring at the little gold oval that Azriel knew Elain would be clutching in between her thumb and index finger.

Graysen had asked her about the necklace, that thin gold chain Azriel had gifted her all those years ago that sat faithfully around her neck every day since. It was his only sign, as delusional as it might’ve made him, that she still thought of him. After everything that had happened the year prior, Elain still wore that small, handmade pendant and even if they didn’t speak, even if his messages had gone unanswered… Maybe her continuing to wear that necklace meant that she didn’t completely despise him. 

Azriel kept moving, not allowing himself to so much as breathe until he was safely behind the closed door of the powder room. He had wanted to keep listening but he knew he shouldn’t. He didn’t think he could stand to hear her answers to Graysen’s questions. Didn’t want to know if she’d attempt to explain to Graysen whatever this thing was between them or if she’d continue to insist that he was nothing more than a friend. 

But Azriel wanted an answer. He deserved an answer. He just didn’t want to get it by eavesdropping on a conversation he wasn’t a part of. He needed to hear it directly from her. He needed to talk to her.

[lucienarcheron]

I love thinking about domestic modern au elucien waking up a little extra early to make sure they spend a calm morning together. They get ready for work together, slightly distracting each other (Lucien insists on waiting until Elain is done applying her lipstick to kiss her and Elain pulls on his tie a little too seductively for him not to do something about it). One of them starts on breakfast and the other makes the coffee/tea while they talk about the plans for the day and the date they want to have later so the work day is bearable. They drive in two separate cars to work but are talking on the phone the whole time to make sure they each drive safe and get to their destination on time. They have photos of each other in their work stations and always talking about each other to their coworkers who are almost positively sick of them. It’s adorable and they’re both so very smug about how in love they are.

[nikethestatue]

Happy birthday to my bestie, my mate, my Elriel sister @tswaney17

I wouldn't have joined this fandom without her. So if anything, blame her! Jokes aside, I hope you have a marvelous year and meet your own stranger in the night. Please enjoy!

One shot

Summary: Elain Archeron is celebrating her birthday and happens to meet an enigmatic and mysterious stranger who upends her world

She smoothed her black bodysuit over her hips, though it wasn’t wrinkled and then tousled her hair, in what she hoped, was sexy, beachy curls.  

Anyone else would’ve told her that she looked great—well put together, elegant, and not trying too hard. But to her self-critical eye, she saw a slew of imperfections. Hips too wide, breasts too large, stumpy fingers...She could stand here all night and critique herself, but what would be the point? It was what it was, right? Some part of her though, liked what stared back. The black bodysuit hugged her in all the right places, and paired with strappy golden heels and some delicate gold jewelry, she looked...nice. Not quite her 31 years old. Her friends always said that she was a ‘young 30’. She looked about 24. But inside, there were days when she felt 78.  

Oh well. Time to go. That’s not to say that she didn’t want to back out of her solo restaurant trip about 25 times today. Internally, she’s been telling herself that she is too busy, too tired, too poor, and that staying in with a bottle of wine and pizza would be just fine. Another part of her wanted to get out. Even if she looked like a loser, dining alone. At least it was a Wednesday night—not the weekend—so she could theoretically make up a story of being on a business trip. Not that anyone’s going to ask. But she needed that security blanket for herself: “I am eating alone, because I am here on business’. Yeah, that sounded legit. She was a successful, professional woman, determined and confident, and she was on business in Chicago.  

She grabbed her clutch and headed out.  

It was a warm evening by Chicago standards. The middle of April could be blustery or it could be blistering. You never knew. Tonight was lovely, actually. Trees were in full bloom—white, pink, yellow, assertive red, purple, even blue—bursting in flowers of every shape and size along the streets of her neighbourhood.  

Beatrice was a quint restaurant in Fulton Market. Or as ‘quaint’ as a restaurant could be in the bustling, hipster corner of the city. She only knew it because she’d come here before with her stylish, popular co-worker, Morrigan. She recalled how Mor wore a pristine baby blue bodysuit, sky-high heels, and a sparkling silver belt studded with glittery gemstones. Mor’s hair was a waterfall of golden blonde, which cascaded sensually down her back. Her skin was flawless. Her makeup was perfection, and her nails the right shade of pearl. When they were seated, all the girls in the party immediately rattled off a list of things they didn’t eat, were allergic to, and ‘avoided’. Mor announced that she was ‘celiac’ in a tone that implied that obviously she was celiac! And then proceeded to order bread. When the waiter told her that bread has gluten, Mor said that ‘she was allowed to today’.  

Back then, she’d ordered something called the Straight ‘A’ Salad, not wanting to tuck into something juicy and fatty in front of everyone. It ended up being empty and unsatisfying. But she still wanted to go back there, because the other items on the menu looked good, the vibe was nice and not overwhelming, and the drinks were inventive. If nothing else, she’d get her full in alcohol. 

“Follow me, Miss,” the hostess beckoned her and she scurried quickly between tables, wanting to be seated as soon as possible. 

It was nice. The table was by the wall, and she could see inside the restaurant and out the window. She laid her clutch on the table and exhaled. She was here. She was in her place, in her chair.  

She made it. 

“Are we celebrating anything tonight, Miss?” the waiter asked, when he approached with the menu. 

“Oh no,” she laughed, “I am on a business trip.” 

“And do you have any allergies?” 

“No!” she stated decisively. No. She is going to eat what she wanted. No faux allergies for her. 

The drinks menu looked a bit intimidating. Lots of things with Mezcal and Elderflower and words like ‘smoked’ and ‘hibiscus ginger kombucha’. After discreetly googling what kombucha was, she gagged and decided on a Lemond Drop. Safe and sound. 

The waiter wasn’t exactly impressed by her choice, but she didn’t care. Instead, she ordered Cheddar Popovers with bacon butter, and green chili queso for appetizers. It harkened back to her California upbringing, where things were less formal, the food less complicated, and the loneliness less acute. She suddenly and desperately missed her sisters, who lived back home. She missed the sun, tacos, trips to Sacramento and the simpler life she had back home.  

Sighing, she sipped her cocktail and looked around. It was fairly bustling, couples and friends chatting animatedly, drinking their complicated drinks and laughing. But...she felt okay. Not amazing, but okay. It was peaceful.  

It felt peaceful until her eyes fell on a singular, solitaire figure of a man, who sat at the bar, with a drink in front of him. The reason she even paid attention to him was because he was literally breathtakingly beautiful. So handsome, her breath stalled in her chest. Big. So goddamn big, it felt like he was sucking the air into the vortex of a black hole that he’d created just by simply...being. He sat, unmoving, in a sharply cut suit and a white shirt, unbuttoned at his neck. The other reason why she looked at him was because he was staring back at her. Big, bold, unflinching stare. Those incredible, luminescent eyes almost glared at her, and she wished she’d know what colour they were. The man’s face remained impassive, but he continued staring, even once she’s averted her eyes and squirmed in her seat. And now, all she could feel was his stare, following her every move. It was suddenly hot, and she felt her nipples pop like tiny Whack-A-Moles beneath her bodysuit. Served her right for not wearing a bra! Jesus Mary and Joseph. Well, her evening was ruined just like that. Instead of being at peace with her lemon drop and her popovers, she was not being scorched by the gaze of this absurdly handsome man, and all she wanted to do was look his way and see if he was still looking at her. While she didn’t want him to be looking at her. But she wanted to make sure that he was. Oh, god. What. The. Hell. 

She was on the verge of fanning herself, before realising that she’d be looking like she was having hot flashes, and it was too early for that. Her nipples were hard as bullets and she was forced to cover her breasts with her folded arms, just to maintain some sense of decorum. As she ‘busied’ herself with her drink, she snuck a momentary glance at the man. He was still there, but no longer looking at her. Instead, he was on his phone, and a deep sense of regret and longing washed over her at once. 

He was interested in her for 23 seconds.  

That was it. 

But she supposed that for the most handsome man in the world to take notice of her for 23 seconds was sufficient enough. 

“Miss, your popovers,” the waiter stepped up to the table, placing one plate down in front of her, and then the other, “and queso. Please be careful, it’s hot.” 

The food looked fine, but somehow, she no longer felt particularly hungry. She wasn’t sure if it was because the man was no longer looking at her, or because he was looking at her before. Did she want him to look at her? No. No, she didn’t. He was entirely outside her comfort zone, with his piercing gaze and his unnaturally good looks and he was definitely a player, so there was no need for all of this.  

On her birthday, all she wanted was peace and quiet. She didn’t need smouldering men giving her the death stare. Instead, she forced herself to concentrate on her food. The popovers were light and fluffy and crispy on the outside, and the bacon butter was to die for. Sinful, but so, so good. 

She sunk into her seat, enjoying her cocktail and alternating between the popovers and then the rich, spicy queso. She was still deciding on the main course—penne with spicy vodka sauce? Slow cooked short rib?  

“Miss,” 

Her contemplation was interrupted by the waiter, who was holding a drink. 

“From the gentleman at the bar,” he said and placed the drink in front of her. 

Her mouth fell open. Whaaat... 

Timidly, she allowed her eyes to travel to the bar and sure enough, there he was. Staring. A small, secret smile touched his beautiful mouth and he inclined his head just a bit. She didn’t exactly know how to act in these situations. Was she supposed to drink the drink that he sent? Invite him over? Go over there herself? Ignore him like a total douche? 

Okay, first things first. She raised the pretty coupe glass to her lips and tentatively sipped the drink. Sour and smokey, with a touch of sweetness and heavy on lemon flavour, this was definitely a whiskey drink. And she didn’t like whiskey. But for some reason, she really liked this. She took another sip, a bolder one, and then glanced at the man. He was smiling, as he watched her drink, and when she swallowed, he winked at her. Approving? Enjoying watching her? Smug? Pleased? She wasn’t sure. But she... 

“Ready to order, Miss?” the waiter was back, and she absently said ‘fish tacos’ which isn’t what she even wanted, but she was too scrambled to come up with a better idea. “Very good,” the waiter chirped, and before he disappeared, she said, “can you ask the gentleman who bought the drink to join me?” 

Her throat was dry. Her underarms were sweaty. 

WHAT was she doing?? 

She never did anything like this before? Inviting strange men to eat with her? Never! 

“If he wants to,” she added quickly and the waiter nodded.  

God, please say no. Please. Please god, let him say no. I don’t want it. I don’t. 

There he was. Moving through the restaurant like the Angel of Death. Dark and tall and slim and muscular. Jesus. He was actually coming over! Oh. No. Nononononono. 

And then he was standing at her table, how own drink in hand. 

“I wasn’t sure if Whiskey Sour was the way to go,” he said—his deep, dark, raspy voice matching his appearance to a tee. "But it looks like I did well.” 

She swallowed hard and then muttered, “Is that what it is?” 

Yep, it sounded lame even to her own ears. 

“Indeed,” he confirmed. “First time?” 

Somehow, this made her blush. A simple question, and a correct assumption, but for some reason, it was laced with innuendo. 

Their eyes finally locked.  

Hazel. His eyes are a gorgeous greenish amber colour, spectacular like the rest of him. 

He took a sip of his drink and slowly dragged the tip of his tongue over his lower lip, swiping the droplet and that made her even sweatier than she was before. Soon she was going to be sweating like a sumo wrestler—which of course is the most enticing look a woman could sport.  

“No, I’ve had it before,” she finally managed to answer. 

He smirked a knowing smile. 

“Have you?”  

As he was looming over her and attracting way too much attention from the females of the species, and even some males, she all but ordered him, “you can sit down!” 

He smiled again, that smooth, secret smile, saying, “I thought you’d never ask”. 

She didn’t know what to say to that, so she just watched him in silence as he slid onto a chair across from her.  

“Thanks for the drink,” feeling awfully uncomfortable, knowing she was not great at small talk, and completely out of depth with this man, she thought that this was all a pretty bad idea. What was supposed to have been a quiet and nice evening alone, was turning into...well, she wasn’t sure what it was turning into, but it was something.  

“You aren’t waiting for anyone, are you?” he asked, sounding curious. “I wouldn’t need to fight a boyfriend or something...I mean, I’ll win, but,” 

She huffed, and snorted a laugh. 

“So confident?” 

He shrugged, “pretty confident”. After a pause, he pressed, “so?” 

“No,” she blushed despite her best efforts to appear cool. “I am here alone. On a business trip,” she lied smoothly, grateful for having this little nugget in her pocket.  

He crossed his legs and leaned back in his chair, lounging comfortably. Suddenly, he said,  

“Nope. Try again.” 

Startled, she glowered at him, not knowing what he meant. All the while, as she squirmed in confusion, he casually drank his whiskey, watching her closely. 

“What,” she brought her glass to her lips and took a generous swig of the drink, “what do you mean?” 

“Only that you are not being exactly truthful,” he shrugged, and then grabbed a popover and swallowed the whole thing easily. “You aren’t here on any business trip.” 

“What?!” she exclaimed with indignation. “Excuse me! How do you know? What do you mean?” 

His eyes slowly slid over her bare arms, her chest, her neck, and again, she blushed like a fool, but there was no stopping her body’s reaction to this strange man. 

He was...enigmatic.  

“A beautiful woman like you, wearing something so elegant and understated,” 

Understated? Did he mean boring? 

“is not in Chicago on any business trip. So, that makes me think—if you aren’t waiting for anyone, and you are dressed up, then you must be,” he cocked his head, considering, “celebrating something? A new job? A birthday?” 

Most of his words rolled right over her head, because all she heard was ‘a beautiful woman like you’. He thought that she was beautiful? He? HE thought that?  

“What?” she asked dumbly. 

He chuckled, amused. “You are a little naughty liar, is what I am saying,” 

“You can’t call me that!” 

“Then don’t lie to me.” 

She bubbled her lips and finished her drink. Finished already? Shit. 

He noticed it too and motioned for the waiter.  

“Another drink for the lady,” he ordered. “And I’ll take another whiskey. And,” he thought for a moment and added, “bring us a bottle of champagne.” He looked at her and asked, “what are you eating?” 

“I think I ordered fish tacos,” she recalled, watching him in confusion.  

“Want to eat them?” 

“I dunno.” 

“Mind if I cancel them and order us steaks?” 

“Uhh...okay?” 

He did just that, telling the waiter that he’d pay for the tacos as well.  

Who the hell was this guy? He flicked his fingers and just got whatever he wanted. The waiter didn’t even question him! ‘Of course, sir’ ‘Whatever you want, sit’ ‘Right away, sir’.  

“So, is it your birthday?” he asked once the waiter ran to fetch the drinks. Literally, ran.  

“No.” 

His brows knitted together and he pursed his lips. 

Something about him and his look made goose bumps rise on her skin and she shifted under the table, crossing her legs. This guy and his unbelievable dominating bossiness were both scary, but also highly sexual. She knew that she was a bit of a submissive at heart, but that was mostly because she read way too many omegaverse books. But now, she was faced with a true Alpha. When they spoke of an Alpha Male, she suddenly became aware that she was in the presence of one. He wasn’t just tall, dark and handsome—even if he was a walking cliche with all of these attributes. But it was his undeniable, almost God-given natural dominance and superiority that she found so fascinating. And yes, so appealing as well.  

“It’s not your birthday?” he repeated. 

“N-no,” she bleated pathetically. 

He didn’t respond immediately, but only drummed his fingers on the table, and she noticed that his hands were scarred. Rather extensively. Burns, from what she could tell. Jesus. How did he get these? And both hands, too.  

“Lie to me again, and I will take you over my knees and spank that perfect bottom until you beg for mercy,” he warned, his voice impassive, his face unchanged.  

Her mouth dropped open and she thought that she was going to slide under the table and dissolve into a puddle. 

Was she supposed to cause a scene and slap him? Was she supposed to storm out of the restaurant? How does one reacted to being threatened by a spanking by a complete stranger? 

Also, he thought that her ass was ‘perfect’? 

“Let’s start anew, beautiful girl,” he proposed then, while she made silent gasping noises like a dying fish. 

The waiter arrived just then, and only that prevented her from fainting or screaming out loud. He popped the champagne bottle with flourish and poured both of them a measure, while also setting their cocktails down before them. 

“Don’t come back until the food is ready,” the stranger warned the waiter and the man nodded and left without saying a word. 

“What is your name?” 

She swallowed, but remembering his warning, she decided to go with the truth this time. 

“Elain.” 

“Gorgeous name,” he approved. “It suits you. I am Azriel.” 

“Azriel,” an exotic name for an exotic man. “Nice to meet you. I think?” she ventured and extended her hand to him. 

“Pleasure is certainly all mine,” he said, squeezing her hand in his huge, warm, powerful palm, watching her with strange, almost palatable hunger. “Whether you’ll receive pleasure from me or not remains to be seen,” he decided vaguely and she bit her lip, sensing that innuendo again and not knowing how to deal with it. 

The one time a guy was instantly interested in her, and he is a dangerous weirdo. Figures. Just her luck. 

He raised his glass and said, “Happy birthday, Elain! I hope it’s wonderful to you.” 

“Thank you. That remains to be seen, I think,” she said softly and they touched their glasses. She sucked the champagne quickly, and with a sense of foreboding and some kind of desperation. She had no idea where this was going, or what he wanted from her. But she wanted it to continue. At least for the duration of this dinner. 

“What do you do?” he inquired, dipping a chip into the queso, but instead of eating it, he held it out to her. She looked around, in some kind of futile hope that someone would save her from this, but there was no one. Only this stunning, somewhat insane man, who was feeding her chips and dip. 

“Come on, beautiful Elain. Open up,” he urged soft, his voice smooth and husky and so tempting.  

Numb, and only driven by the sound of that sensual voice, she opened her mouth and he gently pushed the chip inside. As she pulled it between her teeth, he brushed his finger over her lower lip and then brought it to his mouth and sucked. 

“More?” he whispered and then concluded, “more.” 

He dipped another chip and fed it to her again. 

“So?” 

“I am in marketing,” she answered, knowing in advance that hers was the most uninspiring answer in history. But she was more preoccupied by the fact that she was being fed chips by a strange man in the middle of a restaurant. 

“And you live in the city?” he asked further. “Please don’t even start with the whole ‘I am here on business’.” 

She sighed and admitted, “Fine, I am from the suburbs. But I work in the city. What do you do?” 

He didn’t seem too thrilled about her question and took his time eating the last of the popovers. 

“Do you really want to know?” he asked finally. 

“Yes, of course. Why not?” 

“You might not like it.” 

“Why wouldn’t I? What do you do? Kill people?” she joked. 

He smiled at her, but the smile was less of a smile, and more just a stretch of his lips. The smile didn’t reach his eyes 

“And if I am?” he wondered at last. 

She frowned and then it dawned on her and she laughed, “what? You kill people?” 

“Maybe.” 

A shiver ran down her spine and she gawked at him in shock. Until she dissolved in a flurry of laughs. 

“You had me there for a sec!” she wiggled her finger at him. “A+ for a perfect deadpan delivery! I am impressed.” 

He didn’t seem to be laughing, but he added, “but they were all bad”. 

She stopped laughing and nervously shifted in her seat. 

“Wait. What?” 

“You wanted to know what I did for a living,” he reminded her. 

As she processed his words, he just sat there, watching her intently. 

“Oh my god,” she exclaimed at last, realisation dawning on her, “it’s a scam, right?! You are one of those guys who pretends to be an assassin, or a millionaire, or in the CIA and then I fall for it, and in two months you’ll start asking me for money and I blow all my savings on you and then never hear from you again.” 

Shaking her head in disbelief she grabbed her napkin and then said, “thank you for the drink, Mr. Azriel. But I am not stupid. I appreciate the gesture—the razzle dazzle—but let’s part ways right here so that no one leaves here too traumatised.” 

He listened to her impassively and in the next moment, the waiter arrived with their steaks.  

She was hungry and upset, but she knew that she couldn’t stay here any longer and remain in his company. The whole thing was too bizarre and she didn’t want to get in trouble. And this man was clearly trouble. Or maybe troubled. Or both. 

“Azriel, I am,” 

“Sit,” he ordered, though his tone was soft. “You are safe with me. Don’t worry. But you did ask me what I did for a living,” he insisted again. 

“Well, when I did ask you, I didn’t expect for you to tell me that you are some kind of a killer!” she snapped, her voice rising. 

“I’d rather you didn’t yell,” he requested. “However, I wanted to tell you,” 

“Why?!” she exclaimed. “Don’t killers usually try and keep their profession,” she made a quotation mark sign with her fingers, “a secret?” 

“Normally, yes,” he agreed. “But, I want you to trust me and I felt that being honest is the best way to earn that trust.” 

“Trust me? Why? And,” 

“Because I want you,” he interrupted her and his tone was blunt, but calm. 

“Wha,” 

“I want you,” he repeated. “I saw you and you...well, you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. And now, I am obsessed with the idea of learning what you’d look like when I enter you. What sounds you’d make when you come on my tongue.” 

At that, the big steak knife fell out of her trembling fingers and she wondered if she was having some kind of out of body experience. An ‘episode’? She wasn’t prone to episodes, but hell, there was a first time for everything, right? 

He shrugged, and continued like this was a perfectly sane conversation they were having, “Sorry if this is a bit unorthodox,” 

An understatement of the century! 

“However, I am not one to mince words,” 

Another understatement of the century. 

“And when I want something, I go after it. And right now, I want you.” 

She made a gurgling sound, but he ignored it, then cut into his steak, and chewed slowly.  

“However, you don’t strike me as someone who sleeps around or who is used to the type of man I am,” 

Was any woman? 

“Therefore, I wanted to build a baseline of trust between us. Like I said, you have nothing to fear from me. I am simply a man, interested in a woman.” 

He was anything but, but okay. 

“So,” she finally found her voice which was lost somewhere in the bottom of her stomach, “telling me you are an assassin is your way of establishing a baseline of trust?” 

He looked at her hand, which was clutching a butter knife, her knuckles white, and smiled faintly. 

“I suppose so.” 

She reached for the bottle of champagne, but her hands were shaking so badly, she could barely grasp it. Smoothly, he took the bottle and topped off her glass. This was probably the worst idea—to continue drinking—but she couldn't think of anything else. 

“Why don’t you relax and eat,” he suggested. “The steak is cooked perfectly.” 

“I don’t think I am hungry.” 

“Nonsense. Lay down your weapon of choice, dig into your dish and relax a bit. Have fun. It's your birthday!” 

He then raised his glass and mused, ‘what should we toast to?” 

“Me remaining sane after this dinner,” she muttered under her breath. 

He laughed.  

“How about ‘to the future’? Because tomorrow with you is worth every yesterday I spent without you,” he said and she almost choked.  

He couldn’t be for real.  

No man talked like that. Ever. 

“Listen, I know I could a little blunt, but in my line of work, I have to move quickly and I typically don’t get many second chances. And I don’t want to miss my chance with you,” he drank his champagne and watched her attempt to concentrate on her steak. “And when I said that you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, I am being honest. I saw you across the restaurant and you kind of blew my mind. It happens, you know,” 

“No, it doesn’t,” she argued. “Only in romance novels.” 

“Okay,” he shrugged, “so we have a romance novel beginning, so what?” 

“It’s not real,” she insisted.  

“Well, while you think on that, tell me when I can kiss you, because I’d really, really would like to kiss you right now,” 

“Never!” she shrieked. “Stop talking like that!” 

She desperately needed him to stop talking. Stop using that sensual, deep baritone to say deliciously sinful things to her. Because if he continued, she wasn’t sure what she’d do. She kept trying to shield her breasts from him, since her nipples were achingly sharp, threatening to poke through the top of her body suit. And between her legs—disaster. She was flooded. Every glance at his strong, powerful hands made her wonder what they’d feel like between her thighs. What his soft lips would taste like if he did get that kiss from her. And every word he said just made her wetter and wetter. She feared she’d have a stain on her clothes once she got up from her seat, and the thought alone was mortifying.  

“I think you should let me kiss you,” he insisted, watching her intently. 

“No, I am not kissing you!” 

God, this steak was good!  

“How about this then,” he proposed slowly, “I scoot closer to you, and you let me play with your clit, while you eat, and then you come all over my hand. I pay the bill and we go to my place and I’ll continue making you come. Because all I want to do right now is kiss every inch of your porcelain skin, and fuck your soft, lovely mouth and watch my dick disappear between those rosy lips. And then you’ll come on my dick in your perfect pussy and ask for more, while screaming my name. And if you let me, I’ll fuck that gorgeous ass as well and will make you come from that as well. And then you’ll sleep in my arms and in the morning, we’ll go get breakfast.” 

She watched him in dull astonishment, her brain failing to work properly as she attempted to process his words.  

This really couldn’t be real. At all. No man, in the history of mankind, ever said words like these to a woman.  

Yes, he just sat there, with her perfect face and his perfect body, and waited. 

“And then you’ll go and kill some people at work?” was all she managed to say to his explicit monologue.  

She’s never been fucked anywhere, let alone her ass. So yeah. 

“Well, not at work. For work,” he corrected. 

“Uh uh,” she sighed. “And you are okay with me knowing about that then?” 

“Like I told you, I want you to trust me.” 

“Uh uh,” she sighed again. Then she set her napkin aside and told him calmly, 

“Azriel, it certainly has been an interesting evening. I thank you. I am not sure I’ll ever forget it, or you, but...I don’t think that I am the girl you need,” 

“All me to decide that,” he argued sharply. 

She chewed the inside of her cheek, before clarifying, “I suppose I choose not to be that girl for you.” 

“Why?” 

“I like my boring little life. It suits me. And you...you don’t suit me or my life.” 

She couldn’t even believe her own assertiveness. She was rarely like this.  

“It’s unfortunate,” he said sadly. “Forgive me if I offended you,” 

“Astonished, more like,” 

“Better than offended.” 

She got up from her chair and her knees felt soft and shaky, and for the first time she understood what ‘jelly legs’ were. She had jelly legs because of him.  

“Thank you for dinner. I better be going.” 

“I’d like to walk you to your car,” he offered. 

“I think it’s a bad idea. Besides, I am getting an Uber. I drank too much. Goodbye, Azriel.” 

She rushed out of the restaurant and onto the bustling Fulton Market, where there were hundreds of people milling around. Her fingers trembling, she got her phone out of her clutch and pressed the Uber button on the verge of hysteria now. She didn’t know where she was going even, so she pressed ‘home’ even though she knew this Uber would host like $60 at least. But she needed to get away. Away from here, away from him, away from making a bad decision. Very bad, terrible decision that she was yearning to make right now. 

3 minutes. 

3 minutes. 

Okay, she just needed to make it for 3 minutes out here, until the car came. 

She glanced at the phone frantically, over and over again, watching the little car move along the street diagram. 

Suddenly, a familiar scarred hand reached over her shoulder and grabbed her phone.  

“Wait! Give it back!” she demanded desperately. 

Azriel smiled at her and then typed something in her phone.  

“Now you have my number.” 

A text chimed, and he added, “and I have yours”. 

“We’ll never see each other again,” she promised. 

“We’ll see,” he said simply. 

Finally, Honda Civic! Blue! There she was!  

She bounced on her heels impatiently, hoping he wouldn’t do anything, and yet hoping that he would at the same time. 

Ugh. 

“Goodbye, Azriel,” she said again. 

He opened the door for her politely and before she folded herself into the car, he pressed his lips to the top of her head. 

“Happy birthday, beautiful. I’ll see you later.” 

-

Azriel ‘The Shadow’ Night had two problems on his hands. 

As he watched the Honda weave in and out of busy traffic, he lit a cigarette—an occasional bad habit of his—and inhaled deeply. 

Nothing that he told her was a lie. 

He did find her to be incredibly beautiful. And his attraction to her was instant and hit him like an avalanche. He’d never felt anything remotely like this before. He wanted her with every fiber of his being and know, innately, that their paths were crossed forever and for a reason. 

The only omission in his tale was that their meeting was not accidental. And that she was the target, who was his current assignment.  

Now, he needed to figure out how to murder her, while keeping her alive. 

[bloomingdarkgarden]

E L A I N + A Z R I E L | A Modern Love Story

[slytherhys]

12 Days of Christmas - ACOTAR Edition

In the spirit of the Holidays, I will be writing & posting short stories about the ACOTAR characters for the next 12 days. Please note that some will be shorter than others and that this is simply meant to be a fun time for everyone that loves these characters as much as I do!

PS. I'm open to requests.

AO3

1st day of Christmas - Christmas Decorating

New Traditions (Modern Elriel AU)

Living with Elain Archeron, Azriel had found, implied a great many things. For starters, there wasn’t a windowsill that wasn’t peppered with colourful vases, the leaves green and luscious all year around. The kitchen, now covered in all kinds of baking supplies he couldn’t even begin to name, was constantly in such a state of disarray that the simple task of getting a glass of water easily turned into a hefty task. He couldn’t complain – not when every day he was greeted by a different kind of pastry his girlfriend was eagerly trying for the first time.

These, however, were details Azriel had been expecting when he first asked Elain to move in with him. What he hadn’t expected, however, was the sight of the enormous garland covered in berries, orange slices and small pinecones, hanging on their front door. Nor did he expect the tiny, chubby snowman sitting on it, staring at him with unwarranted joy. Azriel scowled.

It was the first day of December.

He opened the door, briefly wondering if Bing Crosby’s voice was crooning from their neighbour’s living room and not theirs. If the sweet voice singing along wasn’t his girlfriend’s – who couldn’t possibly be decorating on the 1st day of December – and belonged to Mrs. Allis instead.

Such wishful thinking was short-lived.

The house, Azriel noticed, smelled distinctively of ginger and cinnamon, and the wooden table in the foyer, usually covered in random knickknacks and their house keys, now sported entirely too many candles and a knitted reindeer wearing a Christmas sweater, welcoming him home with an innocent smile. Azriel settled his keys next to it, feeling oddly disturbed.

Azriel eyed the kitchen with concern. He wouldn’t go in – not yet at least – but he could glimpse Elain’s baking supplies on the counter, as well as a plate filled with red velvet brownies. Azriel swallowed a groan, fighting the urge to eat one – Elain knew how much he loved red velvet, but this felt premeditated. It felt like a bribery. 

He kept walking, following the sound of Elain’s voice as he pointedly ignored the gingerbread house kit on the kitchen table (and the fact it remained unopened). Apprehension coursed through his body as he eyed the mistletoe hanging in the archway leading to the living room. As it was, Azriel usually decorated on the week before Christmas, and that was if Cassian nagged him enough that he’d just give up and put up whatever crappy decorations he had gotten throughout the years (read an old, plastic Christmas tree and a few random Christmas ball that didn’t really look good together). Azriel rarely spent Christmas in his own house, so it had never made much sense to decorate in the first place.

Elain, however, clearly had different plans.

Sure, this was their first Christmas together, but he couldn’t say he had expected this much…dedication on her part.

Azriel stopped in his tracks just as he reached the living room, eyes widening as he took in every single detail. Their once cosy living room was no longer. Their couch, a beige, dull thing by default, was covered in a fuzzy, checkered blanket, white pillows dotting its cushions. The usually empty mantelpiece was now covered by a green garland, dotted with fairy lights. Hanging from it, two stockings – one with an A stitched into it, the other with an E (if he seemed to smile at the sight of it, it was purely a muscle spasm).

He fought the urge to groan, side-eyeing the checkered blanket with horror once again. At least, he thought, there were no knitted animals in the living room.

Needless to say, he wasn’t entirely convinced on the Christmas decorations.

His girlfriend, however, was a sight to behold. He crossed his arms, fighting to not let his amusement show as he watched her. Even in her pyjamas and frowning at the tangled Christmas lights in her hands, Elain was lovely. Her cheeks were slightly pink, lips pursed in concentration as she appeared to fight the knotted mess in front of her (it seemed to Azriel she was losing, but he refrained from commenting on it). There was an old Christmas hat on her head, one Azriel faintly recalled taking home from one of Cassian’s holiday parties. It was entirely too big on her head, but it only made her all the more charming.

She was sitting on the floor, right next to a very tall, very bare Christmas tree. More boxes littered the floor around her, but Elain remained humming, unconcerned and completely unaware of Azriel’s presence in front of her.

Azriel hated to ruin her peace, but the checkered blanket seemed to mock him from the couch. He cleared his throat, face stoic ever as Elain yelped and looked up, eyes widening as she blushed.

“You’re home!” She greeted, standing up as she unceremoniously dropped the Christmas lights on the floor. Azriel raised an eyebrow, watching her as she turned down the volume of the music.

“What are you doing?” He asked, briefly wondering if this was one of those times Nesta had accused him of taking himself too seriously. Whatever that meant.

Elain, however, wasn’t deterred by his seriousness. She smiled prettily. “Decorating.”

Azriel made a show of raising both eyebrows. “It’s the 1st of December.”

“Yes.” She simply said, as if that explained everything.

“It’s the first of December.” He said again, not sure she had heard him correctly the first time.

“I’m aware.” She said, pushing the beanie away from her eyes. She did look adorable. “I’m in a festive mood. I wanted to do some light decorating.”

“Light?” He was vaguely aware he sounded like a crabby old man. Elain was too if the twitch in her lips was any indication. “Isn’t this all too much?” He still asked, eyeing the blanket.

He truly didn’t like that thing.

Elain blinked. Then she blinked again, taking in their living room. The couch, the tree, the mantle garland. Then she frowned. “Are you messing with me?”

Azriel scoffed. “Why would I be messing with you?” He took a step in her direction and Elain eyed him suspiciously. “There’s a gingerbread house in our kitchen.”

“No, there’s a gingerbread house kit in our kitchen.” She explained very slowly. “We’re going to build it together.”

“No, we’re not.” He chuckled, but his smile quickly fell away at her raised eyebrows. “We are?” He asked, frowning even as she walked towards him, a pretty smile on her lips.

“We are.” Elain said, wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling him down as she pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “But I made you red velvet brownies as a reward.” She whispered.

Azriel groaned, pressing his head against her neck, making her squeal as his beard tickled her skin. “You can’t distract me with brownies.”

“Are you sure?”

Azriel chuckled, wrapping his arm around her waist as he pushed the Christmas hat away from her eyes. “I am.”

“Well, can I distract you with something else?” She asked, her fingers playing with the hairs on the nape of his neck. Azriel hummed, pressing his nose against her neck, taking her in for the first time in hours. He was almost distracted. Almost.

“Can we at least get rid of that blanket?”

Elain frowned, eyeing the couch. “What’s wrong with the blanket?”

Well, its very existence was wrong, in his opinion, and he opened his mouth to say just that.

“Nesta gave it to me.”

He promptly closed his mouth. The blanket was staying, then. Mother’s tits.

He cleared his throat. “And the tree?” He asked instead, trying to swiftly change the subject. Elain eyed with him a cheeky smirk, making it clear she was fully aware she had won the fight before it even begun.

Gods, he loved her.

“Were you going to start decorating it now?”

“Oh, well. No.” Elain turned shy, chuckling nervously. “I actually wanted to decorate it with you.”

“Right.” He nodded. “On the 1st of December?” He asked. Just to be sure. Elain chuckled, playfully pushing him away even as he tightened his hold around her.

She looked at the tree, avoiding his eyes. “I just wanted to give you a new tradition.” She shrugged. “Our own tradition.”

Oh. Oh.

He was an absolute fool.

Azriel looked at her, his heart beating wildly inside his chest. “You did, love?”

She shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “If you want to, that is.”

It was all he could do not to drop to his knees and show her exactly how much he did.

He kissed her instead, his tongue seeking hers, his hands roaming around her body. He groaned at the taste of her, urging her to wrap her legs around his waist. Elain smiled against his lips.

“Is that a yes?” She asked, gasping as his hands found her ass.

“How could I ever say no to you?” And little did she know how much he really meant it.

Which would explain why, merely hours later, Azriel could be found wearing a stupid Christmas hat, ignoring the stupid checkered blanket, and helping Elain put up the last of the ornaments on the too big Christmas tree. And if he had a smile on his face…

Well, that had everything to do with the girl in his arms.

[utterlyotterlyx]

New Pages

Part Three

Modern!Az x Fem!Reader

ACOTAR x Crescent City Crossover

Summary - Dark secrets come to light and friendships are broken.

Warnings - drugs, mentions of parental death (incl some details), ANGST, swearing, some fluff in the beginning

Part One Part Two

Even the night air was prickled with sweat from the packed bodies bristling about in the stands stacked around the football field.

Light flooded the grass, horns and laughter floated through the four stands all peering down on the pitch from their respective angles, home and away. The Stags versus The Angels. Excitement was rife, beer was plentiful, and everyone was dressed as light as possible to be able to at least try and be comfortable in the summer night.

Azriel had pouted when Bryce had met you on the doorstep to the house and whisked you away with a polite smile to him and strong arm around your waist. Though, he couldn't help but smile to himself at the clear annoyance on your face when you glanced back at him, asking him to put your shopping bag in your room, wishing that you could join him there instead of being dragged through the streets by Bryce.

Doing as he was told, Azriel entered the house, asking Mor where your room was and refusing to give your bag to her, insisting that you had asked him to put them away for you. With a smirk, she told him which room was yours, the one with the faded white paint and golden doorhandle, and he set off to find it.

Azriel exhaled deeply as he stepped into the room. He didn't know what he was expecting, but whatever was in front of him certainly exceeded it.

Your bed was a nest of open books and sketches that was pushed up to the far corner by the window. Empty mugs lined the windowsill, the walls were cream and covered in pencil sketches, ones that you had began to paint over and bring to life, and others you had returned to the same cream as the backdrop.

A bookcase lined with literature organised by author and series, some of which had been pulled out like you had only inspected it that morning. Azriel could almost see you floating about the room wearing an oversized shirt that drowned you, with you hair strewn up and a pencil behind your ear, peering at the titles before your eyes with your tongue stuck out in concentration.

There was a white desk littered with what seemed to be ripped out diary pages, in front of it sat a light brown wicker chair, dresses hung up on long rail and pulled open drawers with shirts and trousers drooping from the edges. It was light a cosy, airy, and very you.

"Gonna start sniffing her panties or something, Az?" A deep feminine voice drawled from behind him, he turned to see Nesta leaning against the faded doorframe with a grin as she took in Azriel stood in the centre of your room with a bag of books hanging from his fingers.

"Of course not," he grimaced, moving to the wicker chair by the desk and resting the bag of books on the seat, turning back to Nesta with his hands burrowed deep into the pockets of his jean shorts, "I just don't know what I was expecting," he shrugged innocently and Nesta took a step into the room, knowing that you wouldn't mind.

"It's comfortable, isn't it?" Azriel hummed in agreement as his eyes traced along the walls, "Everyone comes in here when they need to talk, she's always ready to drop everything and listen," Nesta's eyes glistened with fondness, like she too had been one of the people safe within your comfort, "It's like a sanctuary, she has this ability to make everything make sense. It's crazy."

"I don't doubt that," Azriel muttered, his heart fluttering with new information about you, "Ruhn found us today, invited her to the game tonight, something about Eris and Ithan always playing better when she's there?"

Nesta bristled with unease, "Oh, Eris."

"You're making that face."

"What face?"

"The face you make when you don't like someone."

Nesta thinned her lips and sighed, taking a step further into the room and closing the door behind her, "It's no secret that Eris wants y/n, he tries it on with her every chance he gets. Eris knows how to play the game, and he can play it well, I've seen him do it to others," Nesta sighed, perching on the edge of your bed and running her hand over the quilted floral blanket, "Y/N is like forbidden fruit, the only reason he wants her is to make it clear that he can take whatever he wants from us and fuck the consequences. She's one of us, and he hates us, so he wants to hurt her."

"I'll never let him hurt her," Azriel's determination made Nesta smile, a genuine one, they were the exact words she needed to hear.

"Good. Neither will we," she stood from the edge of the bed and allowed her gaze to wander about the neat but also haphazard room, "Looks like we're all going to the game tonight."

Azriel's eyes darted about the entrances to the stands, looking for any sign of you, from Ruhn's height and Hunt's wings, to Bryce's red wine stained hair and Fury's leather jacket. So far nothing bar the stale beer in his red cup was able to hold his attention.

That was until Cassian nudged him, fixing his attention on the entrance to their stand where Bryce was stood, beckoning back to someone with an outstretched hand. Someone took hold of the offer, and then he saw you grasping to her with a large smile on your face and dazed eyes, Ruhn's arm was slung over your shoulder and he wore the same dazed look in his eye as you did.

The group grazed over your figure as Bryce led you up the steps to a free section in the pews a couple steps before their own. Thigh high black boots, that were clearly Bryce's, were glued to your legs, and a forest green football jersey dress flowed down your figure and ended just where the boots ended. That forest green jersey you adorned possessed Eris' signature number 10 stamped on the back and Nesta's anger seethed through the row as she noticed something about you that she had very rarely ever seen.

"She's fucking high," Nesta bit through her teeth and Cassian had to wrap an arm around her waist to stop her from marching over to Ruhn and smacking him square in the jaw, "She doesn't wear that shit. She doesn't smoke that shit."

There was a sadness in your eyes that Azriel couldn't quite place, but through your dazed state, he couldn't quite decipher if the sadness was real or a figment of his imagination. A wide smile worked its way onto your lips when you saw your friends, still hand-in-hand with Bryce who was leading you down the pew, you waved at them and leaned back to whisper something to Ruhn who barked a laugh before sitting down and plastering you to his side.

Mor leaned around Cassian with a frown, "What's going on with her?" Feyre and Rhys also leaned forward with worry in their eyes, "Az, you were with her today, did she seem off?"

Azriel shook his head, "No, she was perfect," he told them, turning to you and staring at the back of your head, watching you laugh at Bryce and lean into Ruhn's side.

Mor hummed, leaning directly over Cassian to whisper to Nesta, "Is it her brother again?"

"Her brother?" Azriel asked, he didn't know that you had a brother, he had heard little of your family at all actually.

Sighing, Nesta turned to Azriel, "Y/N's parents died when she was a child, her mother died of cancer, and her father died of an overdose a couple years later," Nesta looked to you sadly, "Y/N and Caden are best friends, and they both hate their older brother. He's been trying to move Caden across the country for years now since their nana became sick, she's been fighting it every step of the way. Something must have happened, she's usually so anti-drugs, she wouldn't just jump into it for no reason."

It was information that broke his heart, he never would have thought that you had come from such a traumatic upbringing, losing your mother to a horrible disease and then your father to addiction, then facing the possibility of losing your best friend. It made him want to rush to you, to pepper your face in kisses and tell you that it would be alright, that he would fight with you.

"How old is he?"

"Sixteen," Mor replied solemnly, "Harry is twenty-seven, there's not much stopping him from taking Caden away at this point."

Caden. The blonde curly haired teenager you were smiling with that was the permanent backdrop of your phone screen. The blue eyed male that Azriel had always wondered about but never dared to ask of, not wanting to ask the wrong question and upset you.

Heavy drums pierced through the air and the crowds erupted as the two teams ran onto the field, Eris was a godly male, fiery red hair and russet eyes, he turned on his heel, seemingly knowing where to look as he peered up to you, blowing you a kiss and adjusting his shoulder pads. Azriel watched you cheer with Bryce, swigging from your bottles of beer that Hunt had snuck in and leaning into Ruhn's side who swam in the ocean of your presence.

The game was intense, every minute ticked by and everyone held a collective breath as the seconds counted down to the end of the match. The ball was firmly wedged in Eris' arm as he bundled down the pitch, using his brute force and agility to dodge between tackling bodies and push his way through. You were on your feet, tipsy and still dazed from the mirthroot you and Ruhn had smoked prior to entering the stands, Eris' name was leaving your lips in a scream, just like it was leaving everyone's lips as he lunged, grasping the final touchdown with one second to go.

Screams erupted in the stands and beer went flying in every direction, Ruhn picked you up in his arms and twirled you around as Ithan jumped on Eris on the grass below, bashing their helmets together and celebrating their win. Eris looked up at you, removing his helmet and pointing it in your direction, "You're my lucky charm, y/n!"

Bodies began to move, all standing and shuffling down the pews and toward the open exits, no doubt heading to the frat house to continue to party. Azriel tried to keep his eye on you as Nesta ushered him down the steps, also wanting nothing more than to tuck you into bed and find out what was going on with you.

But you were gone.

They had all tried to keep an eye on your forest green dress, had tried to follow Bryce's notable hair and Hunt's wings, but they found nothing of your presence remaining in the swarm of students littering about the college parking lot.

"I'm calling Bryce," Nesta snatched her phone from her leather purse and furiously dialled the number of her friend, demanding to know where they had gone, barking out a rough 'thank you' and hanging up, "The afterparty is at Bryce's, I always forget that she lives with Ithan. Come on."

Music thumped through the walls of the house that was piled full of students, Azriel, Cassian and Rhys pushed the group through into the main seating area that was void of any furniture bar a couple of tables and stands for the kegs that were dotted about the room. Nesta spied you first, and Cassian tried to catch her arm before she made a scene, but Nesta Archeron did not care for precious male egos.

Grasping your wrist away from Eris, the eldest Vanserra snarled and quipped something that must have pissed her off because Cassian swore aloud as she planted her fist directly into the centre of his face. You screeched her name furiously, pushing her away from Eris, away from you, pushing her all the way into the back yard where you stood on the steps screaming at her in front of your shared family that had filed out behind you.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Azriel had never seen you angry, let alone seething, Nesta stood on the ground below you, teetering on the edge of world-ending anger.

"What am I doing? What are you doing?" They watched your shoulders drop, "You're here with Ruhn and Eris? You're dressed in that pathetic green jersey that I know for a fact doesn't belong to you. You're high. Who the fuck are you?"

Bryce stepped to your side, "Nesta, Stop it," she pleaded, looking between you with worry, confirming Nesta's suspicion that something had most definitely happened.

It was you and Bryce on the steps with Ruhn and Hunt lingering in the doorway, the rest of them were stood on the grass, Cassian was trying to calm Nesta down before she no doubt said something she would regret later, "You're supposed to be her friend, have you lost your mind?!"

Growling, Bryce took a singular step down, shielding you, "I am looking out for her the way she needs me to. I'd never let anything bad happen to her, Nes. You know that."

"Stop talking about me like I'm not here!" You were shaking, Azriel wasn't sure if it was the anger or the sudden gust of cold wind that graced the borough, "How dare you punch Eris like that. He's done nothing wrong. Apologise."

"Absolutely not."

"Nes," Cassian trailed off, watching you barge past Bryce to stand in front of her.

"Apologise. Why must you be so hateful of everyone that isn't us?"

Azriel could basically hear the branches snap in Nesta's mind, her eyebrow arched and she cocked her head to the side, not able to stop the hateful words from flowing from her mouth, "Is Caden finally being taken away from you? Is that it?" Bryce held her breath and you froze, even Ruhn and Hunt moved to your side in that moment as she continued to hurl her words, "I may be hateful, y/n. At least I have my family, yours just keeps on dying and being taken away from you. Is that why you're high, hm? Caden is being taken away to live a better life away from you, to live a life that you can't give him so you're going to drown in mirthroot to forget like your father did when your mother died?"

"Nesta!" Feyre gasped, covering her mouth with her hands as they all stood powerless to stop her tirade.

"At least I have my sisters, y/n. At least my father loved me. At least I have a boyfriend who adores me and friends who couldn't live without me. At least I have a fucking future-"

A curt slap cut through her words, her head snapped to the side and she cradled her check, stuttering like she only just realised what she had said when she looked to you, tears streaming down your face and bottom lip bubbling, "Don't you ever talk about my family."

Nesta's eyes went wide, "Y/N, I - oh my god, I-"

"For your information, Caden is being taken away from me. You're right, I guess everything does get taken away from me in the end," you looked defeated, deflated, broken, and Nesta had just rubbed poison in your gaping wound, "I never want to see you again," your face contorted into heart breaking sadness as sobs rattled through your chest.

Azriel went to move to you but Bryce was on you in an instant, wiping your tears away, turning your broken body away from them into Hunt's awaiting arms who seemed to be doing his best to contain his anger as he listened to Bryce and escorted you back into the house, up the stairs and into the confinements of her bedroom.

The red wine haired female turned to them, glancing at each of them in turn before landing on Nesta, "Well done, Nes. You really knocked it out of the park this time."

"Bryce, I-"

"Save it," Bryce scoffed, "She trusted you more than anyone, Nesta. She told you everything, she cried to you about this, about how terrified she was of this happening, she confided her darkest moments to you and you come here and throw it in her face for what? Because you were angry? Because you didn't want to see her with Eris or Ruhn? Whatever the reason is isn't good enough on any scale," she moved her gaze to Feyre and Azriel, "You should be ashamed of yourselves for letting that happen," then she turned her eye to Rhys, "If you have any decency then you'll get your pack out of my home. I'll come and collect her things tomorrow, she'll be staying with us whilst we help her through this."

Mor sputtered, "You can't do that."

Bryce's russet orbs sparked into flame, "I think you'll see that I can do that. You heard her. Y/N never wants to see that one ever again," she pointed to Nesta and snarled, "I'm not about to send her back to you. We have room for her here, at least she won't have her painful life thrown in her face. Now, leave."

Elain was standing in the foyer of the home, tapping her foot against the wood, a snarl plastered to her face. Lucien sat on the bottom step, head hung low, and he refused to look up once they all entered.

"What did you do?" Elain growled at her older sister, your phone was in her hand, the background lit up to the same picture of yourself and Caden, and Nesta felt herself beginning to cry at the sight of it, "Don't you dare cry."

"Elain, it was a mistake. I didn't mean to blow up like that-"

"Tell me why I picked up my best friends phone to the sound of her sobbing. You broke her Nesta, she's completely broken and drowning because of you."

Elain continued, "You know she was terrified of this moment, you know that she was planning to take Caden in the moment she graduated to give him a loving home. She watched her parents die, she became a mother herself when they did, she promised Caden she'd make a life to be proud of for them, and you had the audacity to throw every broken dream in her face? I'm so disgusted in you," Lucien fell at her side at the sound of her strained words, at the sound of the sobs threatening to take over her soul, "She's been there for all of us, she's always been the one we went to and abused with our own problems, there's a reason she's so good at listening, it's because she has never been heard in her whole life. She begged the heavens to spare her mother, she begged the universe to let her keep her father, she gave everything she had to keep Caden close, she has nothing left to give now. It's all be taken from her, and not only has she lost the last member of her blood family, she's lost you too."

Elain picked up the duffel bag containing your essentials, fluffy pyjamas, your toothbrush, a change of clothes, a copy of your favourite book, your sketching pencils and laptop. She stopped in front of Nesta, Lucien stood not far behind her, "You should be disgusted in yourself. I know I am. I wouldn't blame her if she never came back to any of us after this."

"Please tell her-"

"No. I'm not doing anything for you."

Then Elain exited, slamming the door behind her and Lucien.

The heart of the house was heavy without you there to lift it, and Feyre was the first to move, Rhys' hand entwined in hers, "We're going to go to bed," she stopped beside Nesta, "I've never seen her look that sad. Maybe Elain is right, maybe she never felt heard here."

Azriel understood you then, why you were so addicted to art and stories, "She's a bookworm," he looked to the door, hoping that you'd burst through it like sunshine in a stormy sky, "Any story is better than her own, that's why she's always reading, she wants to escape, to lose herself in a story in a world that isn't this one."

Nesta sobbed, Cassian tried to comfort her but he was also clearly disappointed in the words she had so venomously thrown at you, the disappointment clear as he looked toward Azriel who looked equally as defeated as you had on that grass.

The family felt cracked and fragmented, and Azriel, for the first time, didn't know how to fix it.

Authors Note

Ouch :/

@paankhaleyaar

[impossiblescissorspeachpaper]

even in those quiet moments, i hear your voice

elriel month prompt six: words unspoken

NSFW.

Another Secret Dating Modern AU installment. Read other fics in the series here

It was the laziest of Sundays, but it had been a while since Azriel had spent the entire morning in bed. He probably hadn’t done so since his teen years, when he’d sneak out of the house with Cass and Rhys and binge drink the cheap beer they’d bought with a fake ID in the local park all night, coming home just before the sun rose and sleeping the entire following day away. But honestly, if all his mornings included Elain Archeron tangled in his sheets, her jasmine scented hair splashed across his pillows and soft skin pressed up against his, he would do it more often. 

Azriel had never thought he’d be the type of guy to be down so bad for a girl, but the more layers of Elain he got to uncover, the more he realised he was made for someone like her. The broody guy who loitered in shadows, falling for the sunshine flower girl. He snorted at the absolute irony of it.

He’d promptly ignored the incessant texts from Cassian at seven am, his brother hounding him to meet at the gym for a session. It wasn’t going to happen. Not today. Today he was going to do nothing but lounge around with his girl. She’d been busy all week with work and assignments, and he’d barely gotten a chance to see her. 

If it was just their schedules that kept them apart, he may have been more compliant in her absence, but they had the unfortunate burden of also having to sneak around their nosy siblings. He loved that Elain was so close with her sisters, and he with his brothers. After all, they were all each other had.

Their little group had only grown closer since Rhys and Feyre had introduced them all, and he loved the bonds he shared with each, but sometimes they were all just so damn clingy.

He chuckled, wondering what their group must look like to outsiders. Probably something like the Cullen’s… Azriel grimaced, it was Elain’s fault he even knew that reference.

Elain had come over late last night after a dinner shift at the restaurant. Tired and cranky, she had dumped her bags in the doorway and made a beeline straight for his shower, complaining she smelled of fried calamari and beer. Azriel had laughed, thinking she was being melodramatic. She always smelt fucking amazing. 

She had emerged from his tiny ensuite twenty minutes later, wrapped in an oversized towel with her hair thrown up in a messy bun and steam wafting out of the door behind her like tendrils of smoke. It had taken all his willpower not to stalk over to her, whip that towel off her body and throw her onto the bed. Fuck, she was gorgeous.

She had further sealed his fate, driving home the final nail in the I Love Elain Archeron coffin, when she’d gone rummaging through one of his drawers. She’d turned around with a proud grin on her face when she’d found what she was looking for; an old band tee he’d had since college. Throwing on the faded tee she loved to sleep in so much, she’d curled up in bed beside him, giving him a soft peck on the cheek before settling in. 

Azriel’s eyes had almost rolled into the back of his head. She smelled like his shower gel, and that, paired with the oversized t-shirt she wore, had him internally peacocking in some fucked up, masculine alpha-male type of way. Whatever. He loved seeing Elain in his clothes, even if that did make him some sort of primitive, territorial bastard. She tucked herself into his side and Azriel had all but beamed in male pride.

He’d thrown on a Netflix movie for them to watch, but it had barely been ten minutes in before she had fallen asleep, her face pressed into his chest as her breath fanned across his skin. He’d simply smiled down at her and pulled her closer, rubbing a hand down her back, bringing his palm to rest at her waist. He’d let her sleep, his own eyes growing heavy as the warmth from her tiny form drifted over him and lulled him into a peaceful slumber not long after.

The following morning, he'd awoken early but remained in bed, not wanting to disentangle himself from the limbs she had wrapped around him in their sleep. Elain dozed peacefully as he looked over at her, and not being able to resist her thrall any longer, he gingerly rolled over onto his side. Gently pushing aside the hair that had slid over her face, scarred fingertips fluttering over her serene expression, he pressed the softest of kisses to her nose.

She didn’t stir.

He leant forward again, peppering her face with feather-light kisses, brushing his lips lightly over her cheeks, her eyes, her temples, her jaw. 

With a deep exhale and a stretch of her legs, Elain’s eyes finally fluttered open, blinking as she adjusted to the light. The soft morning sunlight filtered through his window and gilded her hair in streaks of brilliant gold and honey brown. He couldn’t help but gape in awe at her, she’d never looked more beautiful.

“Morning,” she croaked, her voice still thick from sleep, face half buried in the pillow. 

His lips twitched into the ghost of a soft smile. Elain had breezed into his life just a few months ago, but in that short amount of time, she’d managed to awaken something deep within him that had long been slumbering. Something he had not even been sure he would ever possess, that vulnerable ability to open oneself up to another person entirely and just… trust. Yet here she was, making him fall head over heels for her in close to no time at all.

Beneath the rumpled sheets, she hitched a leg to rest over his hip and his skin prickled in response, delighted at her proximity.

He smirked, running a hand down her smooth thigh. “Morning, tater-tot.” 

She chuckled at the ridiculous nickname, and Azriel catalogued that laugh to memory. He couldn’t recall how it had started but every day since they’d been together, he’d think up of a new— albeit random— nickname to call her. She laughed every time, often remarking about the increasing ridiculousness of the names he gave her. He liked to keep her on her toes that way, and tater-tots were cute. Only psychopaths didn’t love potatoes.

Snaking an arm around her waist as his other hand gripped the thigh she had hitched on his hip, he tugged Elain across the sheets and into his embrace. Plunging his hand into her thick hair, he angled her face and kissed her, lazy and slow.

Her soft body melted into him as she sighed into it, kissing him back decadently as her hand came up from beneath the sheets to cup his cheek. He shuffled even closer to her, sidling up beside her, pressing their chests together. Elain in turn shifted, hitching her leg higher on his waist, sinking deeper into his sheets, all but mewling at his unhurried attention.

Azriel felt her delicate fingers creep up to card in the hair at the nape of his neck, her tongue laving at the seam of his lips. He opened for her, allowing his tongue to lazily caress hers as he kissed her, nice and slow, sucking her bottom lip into his mouth gently. 

A small whimper escaped her throat, her hips canting softly into his, and that was all it took to spur him into action. Gripping her thigh in his palm, Azriel rolled them over, settling himself on top of her, his hips cradled in the soft space she created for him between her split thighs. 

He tore his lips from hers, a true testament to his will. Or perhaps it was just proof of his hedonistic desire to simply stare at the way Elain was sprawled out beneath him, that debauched urge all but demanding he visually engross himself in how tantalizing she looked whilst spread out in his bed. 

She always looked beautiful, but there was something about this moment; the way her doe eyes would soften, the way her hair would lay tousled around her, the adorable pink flush colouring her cheeks… he would never tire of it. If he had any talent with a paintbrush or skill behind a lens, he would capture it to keep forever, but instead it was another thing he promised to commit to memory.

Holding himself above her, a muscled forearm resting on the pillow beside her head, Elain merely gazed up at him, a small, secret smile blooming across her lovely face. They never needed words, and yet they could always discern what the other conveyed. In the short time they’d been together, they’d become so proficient at quietly observing each other, they could often converse simply with a pointed look across the room or a subtle twitch of an expression. He loved that. He loved feeling seen by Elain, and in turn documenting her every little quirk, interpreting the meaning of each one of her silent cues. He intended to be proficient in the unspoken language of Elain Archeron and nothing could sway his determination.

He was so fucking done for.

Elain drew her arms up, slinging them about his shoulders, hands hanging limply behind him as her fingertips brushed his shoulder blades. Goosebumps erupted across his skin, and he couldn’t help but sink into her warm embrace, her body so supple and welcoming beneath him. 

The old t-shirt she wore had ridden up around her hips, and as he drew himself closer to kiss her, he pressed his hips firmly into the warm centre of her.

Something akin to a squeak escaped her lips, causing her in turn to wrap her long legs around his waist. He marvelled at her warmth, relished in doing nothing but exist in Elain’s hold. Kissing her deeply, keeping his machinations unhurried and languid, he couldn’t help but think he would happily live and die in this very spot. 

Shifting beneath him, Elain’s hands trailed up his body and dove into his hair, deepening the kiss as her thighs split imperceptibly wider, allowing his rapidly hardening cock to nestle snuggly against her. She loved it. She let loose a little breath, her back arching at the increased pressure on her sensitive folds. She bit his lip gently, unable to control the pleasure slowly building, and rolled her hips, seeking more friction where she needed it the most.

Azriel chuckled, pulling back once more to look down at her. Her pupils were blown wide, all traces of sleepiness gone. In its place was a sultry, sexual profligacy, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip as she gazed back up at him.

“Az, I need… uh!” she trailed off at a particularly delicious roll of his hips.

Azriel tenderly brushed the golden strands of hair that had fallen into her face. “I know, baby,” he cooed, placating her with another languorous thrust of his hips, benevolently rolling into her, burying her deeper into his sheets with the motion.

Elain’s mouth popped open, her eyes heavy lidded, the brown of her irises sparkling with desire behind them. He lived to see her pleasure splashed across her face.

Running a hand down his chiselled abdomen, Elain pried open the waistband of his underwear and eased one slight hand beneath the cotton. Her fingers were exploratory, fondling him lightly before finally wrapping them around his shaft. His head flopped heavily between his shoulders at her touch, his mouth falling open with an exhale. 

Her touch immediately sent sparks of pleasure ricocheting through his veins, her fingers well practiced in his preferences. The pressure she applied was just how he liked it. Fuck.

Gathering his wits, he gripped the hem of the tee she wore and slowly pulled it up her torso, exposing her iridescent skin one slow inch at a time. Her grip around him tightened, unhurriedly stroking the hard length of him. 

Pulling the shirt up to her collarbones and exposing her breasts, his mouth watered at the sight of her curves, her peaked nipples ready and waiting for him to steal a taste. Lowering his face to her chest, he puckered his lips around the hardened bud of one, his tongue laving hungrily at her skin. A soft cry escaped her as she flung her head back into her pillow, her back arching beautifully.

The movement allowed him to twine a hand beneath her, pressing his palm firmly against her back to push her breasts into his face, effectively smothering himself in the swell of her curves.

Releasing her nipple from his mouth with a soft pop, Azriel licked his way across the valley of her breasts to the other side, lavishing the second with the same attention. He traced a broad hand around her waist and up to cup her breast, sinful fingers replacing where his mouth had just been, his tongue continuing to lick and suck at her chest with a reverence he reserved solely for Elain. He moaned at the taste, the scent and feel of her skin engulfing his senses completely.

He sucked and pulled and licked at her skin, teeth nipping the sensitive swells of her breasts until he’d left several blooming violet marks splashed lovingly across her chest. He knew she loved the little reminders of his passion, that the thought of wearing his love bites hidden beneath her clothes excited her. And he loved giving them to her. He could never get enough.

A short yelp escaped her at a particularly enthusiastic pass of his teeth against her hard nipple.

Seemingly decided she was done with being teased into oblivion, Elain had grown increasingly needy and pointedly pulled his cock free from his boxer briefs, stroking him with increased fervour.

She gripped him hard and twisted her hand around his shaft, just how he fucking liked it. Azriel shivered at her touch, hazily admiring the way she was able to work him up just as effectively as he had her. His blood pounded in his ears as he grew almost painfully hard, his cock leaking and standing at attention.

Elain continued to expertly stroke him, whilst the fingers of her other hand twined in his hair. Administering a sharp pull, the tug caused him to reluctantly tear his mouth away from her plush breasts.

He crooked a brow at her insistence, injecting a low timbre in his voice he knew drove Elain wild. “Yes?”

Her only answer was another soft whine as he pointedly rolled into her dripping folds again, her own hand still wrapped around his cock adding to the friction.

He gazed down at her, a smug grin blooming across his lips at the desperation he saw leaching from her. Her chocolate brown eyes smouldered and she all but trembled with want, his hips pinning her resolutely beneath him.

He watched the way her throat bobbed as she swallowed thickly, the way her nipples had turned a bright pink from his ministrations, how her kiss-swollen lips parted as her breath panted out before her. She gazed at him how a hungry beast may observe its prey, and he knew that same desire was reflected in his own eyes. Stooping down for one last peck to the little dip between her collarbones, he settled onto his forearms, pressing his chest flush against hers.

Sensing her small hands fumble to line up his cock at her needy entrance, Elain exhaled contentedly, eyes beautifully fluttering into the back of her skull as he began to sink slowly into her. 

So soft. She was always so fucking soft, and tight and warm for him. And wet. She was so fucking wet.

He shuddered above her, pausing halfway, allowing her to adjust to the intrusion before he continued. Biting her lip, she slung her arms over his shoulders once more and urged him onwards with a small tilt of her hips, imploring him to go deeper. Silently begging him for more.

Rolling his hips into hers, she cried out as he finally pushed all the way in, her slickened walls enveloping him deliciously as she trembled beneath him. She looked up at him with that burning desire they both felt so acutely written across her face, her teeth sensually sinking into her plush bottom lip. She all but begged him to move, her eyes expressing everything she needn’t voice.

Pressing a kiss to her jaw, her neck, behind her ear, he nuzzled his face into her silken hair as he started to move. 

Rocking in and out of her slowly, he lengthened his strokes, feeling her clench deliciously around him with each pass. Her arms came to wrap around his middle and her nails scraped down his shoulder blades, a sure sign that Elain was holding herself back from tumbling over that edge too soon. He knew she wanted him to come with her. Knew she loved it when they found their pleasure simultaneously in a puddle of heaving chests and garbled pleas. He’d let her have it, but he wasn’t going to make it easy for her.

Edging their way ever closer to their pleasure, he continued to plunge impossibly deeper into her, over and over, the feeling of her delicate muscles beginning to flutter around him. Their chests had grown slick with sweat causing them to slide against each other with each stroke, only adding to the debauched eroticism. Knowing she loved the stimulation to her nipples, loved his weight atop her, he pressed her more firmly into the mattress beneath them as he continued fucking into her. 

“God— Az!” 

It was a desperate, reverent plea, her fingernails scraping down the skin of his back leaving red marks in their wake.

Elain attempted to clasp her knees together, her taught thighs pressing into his sides as he continued to drive into her wet heat. Pulling his face from its resting place nuzzled against her neck, he lay his forehead against hers. 

Their hot breathes mingled in the space between them, gasps and moans falling from their lips as Azriel drove into her over and over, as deep as he could possibly go. Nudging that elusive knot of nerves he knew would have Elain seeing stars with every drive of his pelvis, a small cry bubbled from between her lips, her fingertips digging into his muscled back as he pounded into her. 

Feeling his own orgasm looming, he swiped his tongue into her mouth, catching the whimpers and cries she let loose like they sustained his very lifeblood.

Trying and failing to hold his composure, his movements grew sloppy and frantic as they both hurtled toward their climax, their bodies slamming together and edging ever closer to that summit. His head emptied of all other thoughts but Elain, Elain, Elain; and with one final, heavy thrust, she cried out, her face twisting into a pageant of pleasure. 

Her hands clutched frantically at his biceps as she came around his cock, her breath catching in her throat as her plump lips opened into a pretty O. The sounds of her orgasm reached their crescendo, and only moments passed before Azriel was following closely behind.

With a stuttered grunt and an echo of her name he spilled into her, her folds fluttering around his shaft, her tight inner muscles heightening his pleasure.

His mind short-circuited in his bliss, but he focused on the feel of her flushed breasts pressed beneath him, their mingled releases dribbling around him, her breath fanning across his sweaty face. Elain. He could never fucking get enough.

They remained tangled around one another and panting. Brown and hazel eyes screwed shut, but parted lips softly grazing the others’ as he sloppily rocked them through the final throes of their pleasure. 

Azriel’s arms gave way as he slumped heavily into Elain’s embrace, her tense muscles now softening and turning pliant once more. She glistened with sweat, the golden-brown hair at her temples curling against her glowing skin.

His mind had gone blank. Utterly quiet in the wake of his climax. All except for one thought that emerged from the heady fog: this. 

This. This. This.

This is how he wanted to spend all his days. With her. Irretrievably intertwined in each other. Warm, safe, peaceful. In their own little haven of quiet understanding and unbridled desire. The way she understood him, saw him, without the need of any unnecessary words. 

Yes, this was fucking it. He’d never be able to go back to life without her.

As the haze of passion cleared, he became conscious of his entire bulky frame completely smothering his tiny girlfriend beneath him. Fuck, he was probably crushing her lungs.

Pressing a chaste kiss to the hollow of her throat he attempted to pull their sweat-slicked bodies apart, but she only mumbled something that sounded like not yet and pulled him soundly back on top of her, wrapping her legs securely around his waist to hold him in place. 

Ok then, he wasn’t going to argue.

Instead, Azriel just smiled into her neck, gently brushing the hair away from her face as he murmured into her skin, “Love you, too.”

She only hugged him tighter.

*******

A special thanks to @tswaney17 for helping me pull this out of the trash💚

EM tag list:

@waternymphia

@shedoessoshedoes

@nightcourtseer

@tealeaves-and-rosepetals

@jasmineandshadows

@zdenkah

@dottielovegood

@casuallivi

@azrielslight

@ultadverb

@tswaney17

@batboyazriel

@duskwhisperer

@thoughtsaboutshows

@mardereads19

@a-frog-with-a-laptop

@123moiaussi

@reverie-tales

@britishwings

@glasscupsss

@gracie-rosee

@massiveattackangel

@thesistersarcheron

@dreamsandwings

@shadowflorecita

@elainsweetcobalt

@demarogue

@lesolehabitantdelalune

@elrielbaby

@happy-go-lucky-fangirl

@nivem565

@broodybatboy

@edanmaia

@booksnightowl

@saz-griffin

@swankii-art-teacher

@elriel-month

[teddyhoneybear]

In a modern AU, Elucien seems like the type of couple to choose a bycicle over a car to help the environment (probably obsessed with recycled or reusable things). Or the one that lives in a van and uses filtered rainwater omg, travelling the world with their cute dog, minding their own business.

[shadowriel]

Modern Elain Aesthetic

Interests include: tarot cards, butterfly clips, baking as a love language, pretty lingerie, art museums, having a book for every occasion, flowers, the little things in life

@elainweekofficial

→ You can find more modern ACOTAR aesthetics here

[duskandcobalt]

Everywhere, Everything: Chapter Three

Chapter Summary: In the aftermath of sleeping with Azriel, Elain finds herself a distraction in the form of a new boyfriend. Only, that distraction isn't working out quite as planned.

Word Count: 3.9k

Missed the first two chapters? You can find the masterlist for this fic here 🥰

A/N: Thank you so much for all the love and support on this fic. It means everything to me 💕 Please accept my apologies in advance for this chapter lol but repeat after me - fuck! graysen!

ENJOY XX

Read on AO3

“Your mom hates me.” Elain tipped her head back against the passenger seat headrest and closed her eyes against the bright light of the full moon. Graysen’s foot pressed down on the gas pedal, sending them flying faster down the freeway towards his apartment. She couldn’t bear to look at him. Couldn’t bear to see the disappointment in his eyes, the tension in his jaw. She had one job tonight and she’d failed miserably.

“I told you to make sure you cleaned yourself up after work.” Graysen’s voice was low, barely audible over the sound of the road. His gaze stayed fixed straight ahead - as if he couldn’t stand to even glance in her direction. 

Hot tears pricked at the corner of Elain’s eyes, threatening to spill. She didn’t know why she’d bothered to hope that maybe he’d try to reassure her, that he’d say something to make her feel better or to let her know that it didn’t matter to him whether or not his parents approved of his new girlfriend. It shouldn’t have surprised her that all she got was blame even if she had spent an hour in the bathroom after work, carefully pinning her hair into place and making sure her makeup was done just right. 

She didn’t know how she’d failed to notice the smear of dark crimson juice that had dried on the side of her hand or how she’d forgotten to scrub off the smudge of dirt that had somehow made its way onto the side of her neck but Graysen and his mother had both certainly noticed. 

It had been the first two things he had pointed out seconds after Elain slid into his car earlier,  foolishly expecting a compliment on her dress - one of his favourites -  only for her faults to be pointed out instead. 

He’d found those things endearing once upon a time, in the early days of their relationship, back when he’d come by the apothecary after closing and crowd her up against the door or the counter. It used to be a game between them - kisses pressed along her wrists, shoulders, and neck until he could correctly guess which fruits or herbs she’d been working with that day.

She didn’t know when it had all changed but she supposed it was only to be expected given just how quickly things had progressed between them in the first place. 

…

Elain had met Graysen a couple months after she’d moved to Meadowview. 

She’d sworn off boys and deleted all her apps. The intention had been to take some time for herself for the first time in her entire adult life and figure out what the hell she was doing. But the universe seemingly had other plans because one week before Thanksgiving, Graysen approached Elain in the wine aisle of her local grocery store.

She’d seen him for the first time a few weeks before that. He’d been studying the bottles of wine on the top shelf and she’d caught him sneaking glances in her direction as she half heartedly scanned the lower shelves looking for something good and cheap. They’d exchanged a few coy smiles, a casual wave in greeting or farewell, but never anything more. It wasn’t until they’d ended up in the same aisle at the same time for the third week in a row that Graysen finally decided to make his move.

Elain had seen it coming from a mile away. She’d caught that initial spark of interest the very first time their eyes had met two weeks prior and she’d seen the determination in the set of his shoulders when he turned the corner that night and saw her crouched down as she tried to decide between two bottles of wine.  She wasn’t even a little bit surprised when she shifted her gaze from the wine in her hands to see the supple leather shoes that had stepped into place beside her, standing in stark contrast to her own dirt streaked, worn white sneakers.

She’d slowly dragged her eyes up to see him looking down at her with a confident and obviously practiced smile - one that Elain figured he’d used on countless women over the years, easily charming them into a date or into his bed.

Graysen was tall and lean with sandy hair cropped close to his scalp and bright blue eyes that seemed to pierce straight through her. He was impeccably dressed - always in a well tailored shirt and pants with cufflinks neatly pinned to his sleeves and an expensive, probably designer, belt wrapped around his waist.

He’d introduced himself to her after she stood up on wobbly legs and Elain had found herself falling victim to that easy charm. She’d said yes to a drink with him - yes to a drink with this complete stranger - perhaps out of boredom, perhaps as a way to distract herself from the memories that continued to haunt her of her life back home, of the loss of her father, and the friend that had been there for her in the weeks after - the one that hadn’t so much as batted an eye as she ruined his t-shirts with the salt from her tears. 

She’d gone out with Graysen for a drink that Saturday night and it had been… fine. 

Graysen was wonderfully vanilla. Perfectly predictable. He had a routine and he stuck to it. He was just like all the other guys she tended to date - guys that were so far removed from her actual type. Which when she really thought about it, came down to just one particular man with broad shoulders and hazel eyes flecked with green if you only got close enough to notice. 

She’d felt so neutral about Graysen that she hadn’t been particularly interested in seeing him again after that first night. Their date had lasted a few hours. He’d showed off by ordering an extensive bottle of wine and then explaining the various notes and flavours to her in extensive detail. He told her about his job but hadn’t really asked about hers. He hadn’t really asked her much at all that night, when she thought about it. She’d given him a kiss on the cheek and sent him on his way at the end of the night, telling him that she’d be going out of town soon but maybe they could catch up for another drink or dinner when she got back. 

She had no intention of actually following through on that until she’d gone back home and royally fucked everything up by acting on a long suppressed impulse and ending her Christmas tangled in the sheets of her best friend’s bed.

What happened with Azriel was the exact reminder Elain needed that she’d been right to avoid being alone with him in the months leading up to Christmas. It was also the reminder she needed that she’d gone from relationship to relationship when she lived back home for a reason. Because even then, before the idea of Azriel being anything more than a friend had taken root in her mind, she’d somehow subconsciously known that dating someone else was the only way to keep her from falling hard and fast for him.

She’d called upon that go-to tactic once again when she’d returned back to Meadowview and decided that a distraction was extremely necessary and long overdue because just a few months of being single had sent her running into Azriel’s arms not once, but twice.

Graysen had been the obvious option. One quick text and Elain was on the road to moving forward. At least that’s what she tried to tell herself. 

Elain had taken it upon herself to figure out exactly what Graysen was looking for in a girl quite early into knowing him and she’d adjusted herself accordingly - quickly and easily falling into an all too familiar routine of molding herself to be whatever someone wanted or expected her to be. She’d done it for her parents, for her sister, for her friends. And she most certainly did it for the men she dated. 

She’d always excelled at it. She knew exactly how to tailor herself to be what a man desired and she’d been fine tuning her skills from a young age, leaning into the covertness of being just a pretty face. She knew how to stay quiet and be demure. She knew to let them take the spotlight, knew when to laugh at their jokes. To let them kiss her but to hold back on sex just long enough to keep them wanting more. 

She’d done it all with Graysen - knew that he would love the idea of taking a pretty girl who was just a little bit rough around the edges and putting her in a sophisticated dress and expensive jewelry. Knew he’d like that she was  quiet with only a few friends so that she could dedicate all her spare time to him. She’d leaned into the bit of her personality that she knew he’d love and shoved every other part of her to the side until even she forgot that they’d ever existed. She’d done it so effectively and efficiently that he’d wanted to parade her around his friends and high flying colleagues mere weeks after she’d sent him that first text.

It was supposed to be casual. It was supposed to be like all her other previous relationships that were really nothing more than just the occasional dinner and sex a few times a week until they inevitably saw through her lack of commitment and called it off. It certainly wasn’t supposed to go as far as meeting his parents and she definitely hadn’t thought that she’d ever agree to introducing him - or anyone else she’d dated - to her family. 

But here they were, three months and one disastrous dinner later.

Elain had never met Graysen’s parents before but she’d heard stories and she’d seen the photos that dotted his swanky apartment in the heart of the city. She’d known just from the look of them - the severe posture and those clinical smiles - that she could expect them to be just like their son.

She’d been nervous to meet them but she’d been somewhat confident that she could charm them in the same way that she’d charmed Graysen and all the other men before him. She’d been wrong, so very wrong.

Graysen’s father had been alright. He hadn’t said much to her other than a hello and a murmured  interesting that dripped in condescension after she’d informed them that she worked at an apothecary running soap making workshops and lecturing patrons on the many intricacies of herbal teas. His mother, however, hadn’t even tried to hide her distaste. Elain wondered if it wasn’t so much a personal vendetta against her specifically or something broader - a preordained disdain for any girl her only son might’ve brought to meet her. 

Veronica had stared daggers at Elain for the better part of two hours - the same piercing blue eyes as her son shamelessly cataloging Elain’s black dress, one she’d spent a good chunk of her paycheck on when she’d clued into the types of restaurants and venues that Graysen liked to frequent and realised that her thrifted flowy skirts and dresses wouldn’t suffice. She’d noticed the tight frown on the woman’s thin lips as she marked the chipped red nail polish on Elain’s index finger along with that smear of cherry juice along the side of her palm. That frown had only increased each time she spoke and Veronica realised that her perfect, accomplished only son had brought a girl with two dead parents and an unfinished college degree to meet her.

Elain ran her thumb along the chain of her necklace, pressing the pad of her finger into the engraved rose as she tried to figure out how she could possibly salvage this evening but with each mile marker they passed, she only found herself withdrawing further and further into herself until all the light had left Graysen’s eyes and the grip of the hand he had on the steering wheel had turned his knuckles white. 

For twenty minutes, she sat in the car and rehashed every second, trying to figure out what she could’ve done better. Had she talked too much? Too little? Laughed too loud like she had a tendency to do when she got nervous?

They were almost back to his apartment when she felt his attention on her again. Elain raised her eyes to his just as his hand fell to her thigh, fingers pressing in lightly through the satin of her dress. 

“Lain,” Graysen started. 

“I told you not to call me that.” Elain interrupted him.  Only one person had ever used that nickname for her and she couldn’t stand the sound of it from anyone else, but especially not from another man. She’d made that clear to Graysen in their first few weeks together.

“El,” Graysen corrected himself, sighing in frustration before he continued. “My mom can be extremely critical but she’ll come around.” 

“You didn’t even try, Gray. You didn’t even try to defend me or anything.”

“I know. I should have said something but I was just frustrated because I told you to clean up and I thought you’d answer their questions -” 

“You’re turning it on me again,” Elain pinched the bridge of her nose. “What did you want me to do? Lie about my career? Tell them that I grew up like you did?”. 

“No, I just… fuck, I just wanted them to like you because I… I love you.” Graysen paused, reaching for her hand. “You know I love you. Don’t you, El?”

Elain’s heart dropped and she tensed under his grip as a flood of indecipherable feelings hit her. 

This wasn’t the first time she’d received a halfhearted apology from him after he’d hurt her feelings and she suspected it wouldn’t be the last. At least this time the apology had come directly from him in a timely manner instead of being delivered as a note written by someone else and attached to an overpriced bouquet of flowers or yet another necklace that would sit on her dresser untouched for months to come. 

“I know, it’s fine.” She finally said, bringing his hand up to her lips and pressing a kiss to the back of his palm. He’d told her he loved her a few times now but she’d never said it back. Not when she couldn’t quite return the sentiment. Instead, she waited for him to pull into the driveway and put the car in park before she leant over the center console and slid her hand up his neck to tilt his face towards hers for a slow, deep kiss. 

Once he pulled away, forehead against hers, chest rising and falling unsteadily, Elain laughed under her breath and gently tapped the sliver of skin visible where he’d undone the first couple of buttons on his crisp, white shirt. “Maybe my sisters will hate you and then we can call it even.”

A small part of her regretted the pettiness of the words but she couldn’t help but allow herself to make the joke, not after the night they’d had. Luckily for her, it seemed that her kiss had done enough to diffuse the situation because he didn’t come back with a sharp retort of his own. Just a huff of breath and a small shake of his head as he turned the engine off. 

Two weeks. She had two weeks until she had to make good on her panicked decision to go home for Nyx’s fifth birthday and then the accompanying panicked agreement she’d made when Graysen suggested accompanying her on the trip in front of his parents.

Elain pushed the thought from her mind. She couldn't think about all that would entail. What going back home would now look like. How much more anxious she felt about it now compared to her last trip back home because now she had an actual reason to be nervous. 

It wasn’t enough to be faced with the predicament of potentially seeing Azriel again but this time she had to do it while pretending that they hadn’t done what they’d done… and she’d have to do it all with her new boyfriend watching as a front row spectator. 

She’d never once introduced any of the guys she’d dated to her family. Never once had they stepped foot into her house or shaken her father’s hand. Not a single one of them had ever been subjected to the scrutiny of Nesta’s menacing gaze. 

But she couldn’t very well say anything to deter him now. She’d gotten herself into this hole and now there was no way out. 

She knew it was a stupid decision to take him back home with her but a small, reckless part of her wondered if this wasn’t for the best because even after months of establishing a relationship with Graysen in the hopes of erasing what she’d done with Azriel, it was a lost cause.

 It wasn’t even the memory of his skin under her palms that hurt the most, it was everything else she’d lost as a result of crossing that line. 

It felt like she was missing a huge chunk of herself. There were empty spaces in her life where Azriel used to be and as much as she’d tried to fill in those gaps with someone else, it just wasn’t the same. She still found herself checking her phone first thing in the morning to see if he’d texted her. She missed seeing his picture pop up on her phone when he called. The random photos of Shadow he used to send her and the constant stream of conversation between them. All their inside jokes. She found reminders of him everywhere and it was hell to keep pretending like she was fine with it all. To keep pretending that anyone else would ever be able to understand her the way Azriel had.

But she’d done this. She’d made that first move and ruined something that had been so natural and easy. 

Maybe it was best to take Graysen back home and put the final nail in the coffin because with any luck,  introducing someone to her family - to Azriel - would make this all real and would force her to move on once and for all.

… 

Azriel sat at Feyre and Rhys’s kitchen counter, woefully tossing MnMs at their toddler who was trying - and failing - to catch them in his mouth. 

He’d been spending the last few weeks like this, trailing Rhysand’s family like a lost puppy because he simply had nothing better to do with his life. 

It’d been just over three months since he’d woken up to an empty bed after what he might’ve deemed to be the best night of his life had it not all gone to hell and while he thought it would get easier with time, it most certainly hadn’t. 

Every day was the same. Wake up, walk Shadow, work out with Cassian, log in to work and stare at a screen for hours on end, walk Shadow again, go to bed. Rinse. Repeat. 

He’d tried all his old tactics of distractions but no amount of drinking in his local bar or aimlessly flirting with whatever girl inevitably sauntered up to him could ease the ache that had taken root in his chest. He hadn’t been able to be with anyone else since that night. He’d tried - just once - a couple weeks after Christmas, and it had ended with him abruptly pulling away from a half naked, very confused girl just as she’d reached for his belt. He’d apologised profusely and left her apartment promptly to go back to his own house and contemplate how he’d gone from a regular rotation of casual hookups to not even being able to kiss a girl without thinking about Elain.

Really, he shouldn’t have been surprised because Elain was all he ever thought about. Every day. Every night. Each time he flipped over his phone just to check if maybe she’d decided to break her silence. He’d been torturing himself endlessly like this for months now to no avail. 

It’s why - when he heard Feyre mention Elain’s name in passing as she spoke to Rhys- he found himself speaking before he could even think to stop himself. 

“How’s she been?” He asked, trying desperately to keep his voice level as he reminded himself that there was nothing unusual about asking after a friend. 

Still, Rhys gave him one of those looks that he’d been giving him for years at the slightest mention of his wife’s older sister. He wondered if Rhys would go into cardiac arrest if he ever found out exactly what Azriel had done with his friend’s beloved sister-in-law.

“She’s good!” Feyre gave him a bright smile. “I actually spoke to her yesterday for the first time in weeks.”

There was nothing on her face to hint that she knew exactly why he was asking. He certainly hadn’t said anything to her after Christmas. He’d kept what happened to himself. Had only casually asked Nesta about her sister’s whereabouts just to be told that Elain had needed to leave because of an emergency at work.

“Oh, that’s good.” Azriel returned her smile with a small one of his own.

“She’s coming back for a visit in a couple weeks.” Feyre continued, her smile faltering ever so slightly.

Azriel stilled. 

“For Nyx’s birthday,” Rhys chimed in, once again carefully studying Azriel before he continued. “And she’s bringing… what’s his name, again?” 

“Graysen.” Feyre nodded, raising up onto her tiptoes and then back down again. It was a nervous habit of hers that Azriel had picked up on by the second or third time he’d hung out with her because she’d done it constantly around Rhys in those early days.

Graysen.

He could pretend that he’d never heard that name before but he’d be lying if he didn’t say he’d scrolled through Elain’s social media to find a picture of him the first time he’d heard Feyre and Nesta gossiping about some new guy Elain had been seeing back in January. He hadn’t found much, just a glimpse of blonde hair and an expensive watch in the background of a picture she’d taken while out to dinner..

He’d seen no sign of a man in any of her limited posts since then and he’d selfishly hoped that that had meant it hadn’t gone anywhere.

“He’s coming back with her? Here?” Azriel asked slowly, staring straight at Feyre while refusing to look at Rhys. He knew his friend’s eyes would be narrowed in suspicion.

A soft ringing filled Azriel’s ears as his heart slammed against his chest. He didn’t let any of it show on the outside, going out of his way to maintain that calm and collected mask he was known for. But it was dread that coursed through him. Dread that extinguished any hope and excitement he might have once felt at the prospect of Elain returning home.

“Yeah. It must be serious,” Feyre swallowed as she once again raised up onto her tiptoes and then back down again before she met Azriel’s eyes. He was usually so good at reading people but for the first time ever, he couldn’t quite put his thumb on what he saw in Feyre’s gaze as she looked at him. “If she’s actually willing to let us meet him.”