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#elriel fanfiction
viridianevergarden · 2 days
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In Spite of it All (Elain x Azriel) Part III
A/N: This took much longer than expected but I think I tried to compensate with a slightly longer chapter 💀 This addition alternates between Elain and Az’s pov a little and kicks things up just a teensy bit. Also since this one is so long, I won’t put a chunk of it below. Just the link to ao3.
Word count: 7.5K
Summary: Elain meets Azriel’s mother and gets more accustomed to Rosehall. What now?
Key: Fluff, slight angst, hurt/comfort
Triggers: Pretty safe. Slightly suggestive themes.
🏷️: @downingg2001
Link to read!
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nightcourtseer · 3 months
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Let’s Rest Now
Summary: Feyre seeks comfort from a nightmare while Rhys is away.
Pairings: Elain/Azriel, Feyre/Rhysand
No warnings
Read on A03
They had been gone for 10 days.
Only ten days. Such an insignificant period of time in the span of their now immortal lives. But to Feyre, ten days without Rhys had seemed like exponentially longer. Nyx, still in his toddling years, had been exceptionally ornery at the absence of his beloved father. And Feyre was exhausted. Not from assuming the sole responsibility for Velaris while Rhys was quelling another would-be rebellion in Illyria with Azriel and Cassian, but from lack of sleep. She couldn’t sleep anymore, when the other side of the bed was cold.
When she was younger, she had dreamed of the day when she might have an entire bed to herself. But now, it felt unbearably empty without Rhys’ arms wrapped around her as they slept.
The nightmares always came back, while he was away.
His still form. So, so still, as if he was only sleeping. Although no even breaths lifted his chest, no drowsy eyes lifted at the sound of her calling his name, over and over again until she was screaming it.
Rhys, Rhys, Rhys!
Feyre woke in a cold sweat, her sleep set sticking uncomfortably to her skin. She reached for his dark form beside her, only to find his side of the bed untouched, the covers still pulled up to the pillow.
He was still in Illyria, for gods knew how long.
Nyx still slept soundly in his crib on the far wall of their room, and Feyre closed her eyes, desperately trying to slow her panicked, uneven breathing to her son’s small breaths.
But it was no use.
Not wanting to wake Nyx who was finally blissfully asleep, Feyre tiptoed out of the room and down the hall. Even if he did wake, the wards would alert her.
Elain’s usually unoccupied room waited for her at the end of the hall. After discovering that the pair had actually married in secret following the defeat of Koschei and Lucien and Elain mutually denying the bond between them, she and Azriel had moved into the empty townhouse. That had been over a year ago, although whenever Rhys and Azriel both happened to be away, Elain often came to stay in her old room to help with Nyx, and keep her sister company.
Feyre never admitted how relieved it made her to have her sister close by in those times. Even though as High Lady she felt guilty that she still wanted her older sister to lean on while Rhys was away, it comforted her all the same.
It was an unspoken agreement between them that the door was never truly closed in times like these. When either one of them would wake from a nightmare, they often sought the other out - Nesta too, if she was there. It turned out they would never be too old to find solace in each other.
Feyre was just slipping under Elain’s thick, sky blue bedding when her sister awoke.
“Az?” Elain mumbled drowsily, half-asleep. Her thick curls went in every which way as she turned her head, some tossed over her face and some tangled underneath her.
“No, it’s Feyre.”
“Feyre?” her voice was scratchy with disuse, and her hands moved to part the hair that covered her eyes. “Are you alright?”
“Bad dream,” Feyre explained simply, hoping Elain wouldn’t see the dried tear tracks on her cheeks.
But mercifully, Elain asked no further questions. Even though Feyre knew that she would gladly listen if Feyre wished to speak about it, Elain wasn’t one to press.
“Can I get you anything?” her older sister asked, a touch of motherly concern in her tone even though she had no children of her own.
“No,” Feyre willed her eyes not to fill with tears once more. “I just wanted some company.”
“Okay,” Elain watched her, unblinking eyes scanning her sister’s in the dark. “Wake me if you need anything.”
Feyre nodded, not trusting her voice not to break as she settled her head against the pillow, letting Elain’s warmth chase away the memory of her own cold bedside.
Elain reached out a hand underneath the covers, calloused fingers wrapping around the tattooed ones of her younger sister. The Seer gave them a gentle squeeze, before closing her eyes once more.
The night was still outside of Elain’s bedroom window, the moon full and bright - casting a blue glow onto the tidy but warm room. Little pieces of Elain remained even after she moved out - a wicker basket hanging on the back of the door, a blue cloak hanging on the door of the wardrobe. One day while looking for a small vase, Feyre had even discovered a dagger hidden away in the drawer of the bedside table. No doubt a gift from her husband.
The room felt all the more alive, with its original occupant staying there once more. And Feyre let that knowledge comfort her - her past and present colliding in a dreamy way that lulled her back to a simple dreamland. Her sister’s hand still held tightly in hers as she sought the peace of sleep, hoping the nightmares would stave off, too afraid to return and be blinded by the light of the gentle Kingslayer.
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Azriel had not been expecting to find his High Lady in his bed when he returned just after midnight.
Exhaustion made him blink twice, shadows skittering out as they rushed to reassure him that Nyx slept soundly in his crib, and that nothing was amiss.
All seemed to be well, they reported back to him.
Quietly shucking off his leathers so that only his more comfortable clothes remained underneath, Azriel walked quietly to the far side of the bed where his wife was burrowed underneath the soft bedding.
He knelt down next to her, pulling back the covers just a bit so that he could see her face. Rosy lips parted slightly as she slept.
Instead of speaking, he chose to lean closer to press a soft kiss to her forehead, then to her cheek. He followed the action by reaching for her, resting one hand comfortingly on her shoulder atop the blanket, and the other tracing the path of his lips with his thumb, ghosting over the invisible mark his mouth had left.
“Hmm?” Elain mumbled after a few moments of his gentle caresses, her face tightened with a small frown as she struggled to wake. Eyes still stubbornly closed.
“Hi, I’m home baby,” he murmured soothingly, brushing a stray piece of unruly curls from her face, then stroking her sleep-flushed cheek. Skin unbearably soft and warm beneath the cool touch of his scarred hands. He breathed in her familiar scent of honey and jasmine - of home.
“Oh,” she sighed, as deep brown eyes finally opened at the sound of her husband’s voice.
At the sight of him, the relief nearly had her choking out a relieved whimper even as she struggled not to wake Feyre still sleeping beside her. “Oh, hello.”
“Hi,” he repeated softly, still stroking her cheek as if to reassure her that he was truly there, even as he watched her attempt to temper the rush of emotions that came flooding through her.
He reached in to brush a chaste kiss across her lips.
The shadowsinger was cold to the touch, and when he pulled away, Elain reached out in turn to stroke the deep circles underneath his hazel eyes.
“Are the others back?”
He knew she was asking not for her own interest, but for the female sleeping beside her.
“No, they should be back tomorrow. I just couldn’t stomach another night there.”
“I’m sorry,” Elain whispered, reaching around his neck to comb her fingers through the hair at his nape. Even half-asleep, she knew just how to comfort him - how to thaw the ice around his heart.
“It’s okay,” he pressed another soft kiss to her parted lips. “I’m home now.”
His gaze flickered to Feyre behind her.
“Is she alright?”
“A nightmare.” Elain’s brow furrowed. “I think she just needed company. Should I wake her?”
“No, I can sleep downstairs.”
Azriel made to pull away, but a small, iron grip locked around his wrist. Her pale skin contrasted against the darker, scarred flesh beneath in her hold.
“Please stay,” Elain pleaded, something in her doe eyes churning. “You just got home.”
He knew she wasn’t requesting this for her own benefit, either. She knew he wouldn’t sleep as well as if she was in another room.
“Okay,” he smiled softly, endlessly grateful for the kind, thoughtful female he had married. “I’ll take the chair. But first, you go back to sleep.”
Elain nodded, exhaustion coloring her dark eyes. He reached back out to continue stroking her cheek, and she reached for his other hand to interlace their fingers to rest on the bed between them, which he did without question.
Shifting his position, he settled in to rest his chin on his forearm. Elain’s heavy eyes began to close, with the reassurance that he wasn’t going anywhere.
“I love you,” she spoke softly, letting her eyes flutter shut.
“And I love you,” he replied in turn, hazel eyes churning as he spoke with the words with every ounce of conviction in his heavy heart.
As she fell back asleep, his dark voice hummed, and the comforting, familiar sound of it ushered her back to her dreams, which were infinitely sweeter with him watching over him. As if even her nightmares feared the male beside her - as if they knew he would destroy the world ten times over in her name if she only asked.
At some point, exhaustion claimed him too, and Azriel drifted off only to wake when the crick in his neck became unbearable, and his wings begged to be lifted from their awkward position half-splayed on the ground.
Stifling a groan, he made his way to the chair in the corner, willing Elain not to wake as he gently untangled their hands.
As if sensing that he hadn’t gone far, she remained sleeping.
Azriel took a deep breath as he settled into the armchair, grateful to be home.
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When Feyre woke, her eyes went straight to the dark, winged figure in the corner of the room.
“Rhys?” she croaked, voice hopeful but hushed as Elain still slept soundly between her and the male asleep in the winged-back chair.
But as her eyes adjusted to the darkness, Feyre saw that her brother-in-law slept in the chair instead, his shadows absent.
Hazel eyes opened as Azriel woke, ever the lightest sleeper among them.
“Feyre,” he breathed, “Do you need anything?”
“Is Rhys back too?” She didn’t bother to feel shame that she hadn’t answered his question, not directly at least.
“Tomorrow, I think,” Azriel replied, kindness coloring his normally even tone.
She tried not to show her disappointment. Making to sit up, she faced the fact that Azriel more than likely wanted nothing more to sleep in his own bed next to his wife, which she was currently occupying.
“Stay,” he murmured, no room for argument in his tone. He looked at her like Elain did - as if they could see through her thoughts, as well as any daemati.
“You can’t be comfortable in that chair,” Feyre whispered back, even though she paused, still half-sitting up. Even in her exhaustion, she let a small grin pull at the corner of her freckled face, eyebrow arching in indignation.
“I actually forgot how comfortable this chair is,” Azriel mused, leaning back further and adjusting his wings behind him. “Plus, I’m sure Rhys spent an obscene amount of money on it. Someone might as well get some use out of it.”
Feyre didn’t need her abilities to tell that he was lying through his teeth. Truthteller be damned.
“You lot are always complaining about your backs.”
“You must be thinking of Cass, I would never,” he replied smoothly.
Azriel gave her a wry smile. She knew there would be no arguing with the stubborn male, although Feyre didn’t miss the deep shadows underneath his eyes, the lines on his face that hadn't been there the week before. But even still, he insisted she stay so that she could get a good night’s rest when Feyre knew all he probably wanted was to be in Elain’s arms.
“Besides,” he chuckled softly, eyes glancing fondly to Elain as if he had tracked her train of thought. “Your sister kicks.”
“I know,” Feyre rolled her eyes. “Trust me.” Feyre couldn’t help but smile back at her brother-in-law, the memories more fond now than they once had been of waking up with bruises on her shins.
“Sleep, Feyre,” Azriel insisted. “Take care of yourself.”
She tried not to blink back tears at the reminder. How lucky she was, to have so many people who loved her, who cared about her wellbeing. When once she had felt so alone, now she was surrounded by those who noticed her, who comforted her after a nightmare. Who made sure she slept, and ate.
With that knowledge warming her heart, Feyre settled back in under the warm covers where Elain remained sleeping soundly.
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duskandcobalt · 3 months
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Under the Weeping Willow
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Emboldened by the light of a full moon, Elain lures Azriel out to the garden for a late night rendezvous.
18+ because this is just some classic duskandcobalt smut brought on by the first full moon of the year.
3k words
Read on AO3
ENJOY XX
“Your shadows watch, don’t they?” She went on, granting him the small mercy of not having to say anything just yet. “Feyre said you have eyes on me at all times. I thought you would’ve known.”
“My shadows do watch,” he spoke slowly, choosing his words carefully. “But only to ensure your safety. I don’t have them report on…  private matters.” 
Azriel groaned, brushing his unruly hair from his eyes as he sat up in bed and scanned his almost pitch black room with bleary eyes. 
He had tried to ignore the soft sound the first couple of times but after hearing that hollow tapping noise against his window for the fifth time, he’d given in to the impulse to investigate.
He swung his long legs out from under the covers, adjusting the waist of the cotton pants he’d worn to sleep as he padded over to the window and gingerly moved aside the heavy curtains just an inch so he could peer out of the small window that overlooked the garden of the Townhouse. 
The full moon hung high in the sky, casting silvery light over the cobblestone pathway that meandered through the flourishing garden towards the giant willow tree that sat at the very back of the space. He blinked, lazily rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he tried to focus on what looked to be a figure standing by the wrought iron table that was situated in perfect view of his window. 
She almost looked like an apparition, a trick of the moonlight, standing so perfectly still as she peered up at his window. Her feet were bare, her thick hair loose, falling in soft waves down her back. She wore a simple nightgown that did nothing to hide the soft curves of her breasts and thighs with the way the moon illuminated her from behind. Her small hand was curled into a tight fist at her side, holding tight to what appeared to be an assortment of small rocks.
Azriel watched, pulling back the drapes fully, as Elain plucked another pebble out of her hand, raising her arm to toss it at his window again. She stopped short, the pebble tumbling from her fingers and onto the cobblestones, when her eyes caught his and she realised that she’d succeeded in getting his attention. 
He was sure he was still asleep, that this was one of the dreams that plagued him recently. One of those fantasies that he’d kept all to himself, ashamed of the way his skin prickled with heat at the mere thought of her. There was no other explanation, no other plausible reason for Elain Archeron to be standing in the garden in the dark of night, wearing little to nothing, and throwing rocks at his window. 
Still, he found himself slipping on a shirt and silently making his way downstairs after she’d crooked a single finger, brazenly beckoning him to come to her with the slightest hint of a smile on her face.  
“Hello.” The sweet rasp of her whispered greeting caused goosebumps to rise on Azriel’s arms and the back of his neck despite the balmy summer night. The sheerness of her gown was even more obvious in such close proximity and Azriel fought to keep his eyes on her face, not daring to look any lower than the delicate collarbones that peaked out from the top of her ivory dress. 
“It’s very late.” Azriel said, gazing into those big brown eyes framed with long, dark lashes.
“Come with me,” was the only reply she offered before she turned and carefully began making her way through the garden. 
He couldn’t help it, then. Couldn’t stop his eyes from falling to the small of her back. To the swell of her hips and the generous curves of her backside and thighs. He had a feeling she knew exactly how much of her body was on display. That she knew exactly what she was doing to him.
Azriel willed himself to follow her, still not entirely sure that this wasn’t all an elaborate dream brought on by the full moon.
Elain paused in front of the weeping willow at the very back of the garden, one hand outstretched towards him. He took a breath to steady himself as he took her small hand in his and allowed her to pull him under the thick canopy of leaves that hung all the way to the ground. 
There was a large blanket there, draped over the patch of grass in between the gnarled roots of the tree that protruded from the ground. He stood, unsure what to do with himself as Elain lowered herself to the floor until she was flat on her back, her arms relaxed at her sides. 
At least here, under this tree - the light of the moon diffused by the heavy dangling branches - he was granted a reprieve from the sinful outline of her body that had been so visible to him just a moment ago. 
“Lay down.” She looked up at him, her teeth grazing her lower lip. 
Azriel complied, slowly laying down on the blanket next to her, close enough that the tips of his fingers brushed against hers. He turned his head to face her but Elain’s eyes were closed, her face tilted upwards. 
The dim blue light from the two siphons he’d quickly strapped to his hands before coming out to meet her casted her alabaster skin in a sapphire glow that  made her look enticing and almost dangerous in a way that made his blood rush to between his legs.
“What are we doing?” He asked after the silence got to be too much, watching the rise and fall of her chest. 
“I hear you at night, sometimes.” She whispered, eyes still closed. “I hear the way you say my name.”
Azriel went still. The only movement he allowed was a slight  bob of his throat as he swallowed in an attempt to quell his nerves. There was no chance she meant what he thought she meant. There was no way that she knew about the things he did, the way he thought about her in the darkest hours of the night. 
Before he had the chance to ask, to seek confirmation, she spoke again. 
“Do you ever hear me?” 
“Elain -” Azriel croaked, unsure as to what he could even say to her.
“Your shadows watch, don’t they?” She went on, granting him the small mercy of not having to say anything just yet. “Feyre said you have eyes on me at all times. I thought you would’ve known.”
“My shadows do watch,” he spoke slowly, choosing his words carefully. “But only to ensure your safety. I don’t have them report on…  private matters.” 
Azriel cleared his throat, his fingers digging into his thigh as he fought back the images that her words had brought to mind. Images of her sprawled out in bed, that torturous nightgown gathered up around her waist. “They know when to look away.”
“A shame.” She huffed a laugh and Azriel’s breath hitched as she turned her face towards him, her eyes falling upon him. “All this time… I’ve been putting on such a show for you.” 
He muttered a curse under his breath, his heart beating so fast against his chest that he genuinely thought he might perish at any given second. Immortality be damned.
“Do you want to know what I think about, Azriel?” The playful lilt of her voice told him that she was enjoying this.
He should’ve said no. Should’ve attempted to preserve the little bit of sanity that remained intact whenever he found himself in her presence. But his resolve crumbled at the glint of amusement in her eyes and he decided that he’d deal with whatever consequences awaited him whenever this dream faded and reality set back in.
“Tell me.” He dipped his chin once, granting her the permission to ruin him. 
“You see,” she began, the soft silk of her voice wrapped itself around him and held him captive. “I’ve been reading a lot lately as a distraction from all the….” She raised a hand, waving it around in the air as her lips momentarily turned down into a frown. 
Azriel knew what she meant by the action. He felt a pang of sympathy for her, knowing that the visions that plagued her had a tendency to be  foreboding and menacing more often than not. He was fully aware that she often roamed around at night, quietly tiptoeing through the hallways and out to the garden, avoiding sleep for fear of being held ransom by one of those haunting visions. 
He had found her a time or two, his shadows leading him to wherever she was. He’d feign that he needed a glass of water or a cup of tea, knowing that she’d take it upon herself to offer her help in the kitchen. He’d talk to her as the kettle boiled, exchanging quiet conversation just so he could make sure she was alright - excusing himself back to bed only when her shoulders relaxed and her eyes cleared. 
“The problem is,” Elain shook her head, her eyes focusing on him once again. “When I lay in bed and imagine all those things I’ve been reading about, there’s only one face that comes to mind.”
Her little finger grazed his and Azriel’s skin grew taut over his bones at that small touch, at her words. She lifted his hand in hers, raising it up in between them. He held it there, allowing her to trace over his scars. His chest ached at the gentleness of her touch as she followed the swirling path of raised tissue that covered his hands and wrists with her index finger.
“It’s these beautiful hands that I think about when I touch myself.” She set his hand down and reached out towards him, her fingertips just barely sweeping over his lower lip. “It’s this mouth that I picture making me come.”
Her fingers left his lips. She dragged her hand down his throat and across his chest, stopping where his heart beat rapidly for her. “I always hoped that the shadows would tell you that I was calling for you. Always wished that you’d come into my room and help me.”
He couldn’t stop himself from reaching up and taking her wrist in his hand. He had to touch her. Needed to touch her. Azriel tugged her towards him, wrapping an arm firmly around her waist, bringing her with him as he sat upright. 
She looked down at him from where she straddled him now, surprise written in her eyes at how quickly he’d taken control of the situation.
Azriel allowed himself to drag his palms down from her waist to her thighs and then back up again to her hips where he held tight and pulled her down until her eyes fluttered shut and the smallest sigh left her lips at the feeling of him hard against her center. “Let me help you now.” 
He urged her hips forwards again, holding back a groan of his own as she tentatively rocked against him. 
It would be so easy to ease her nightgown up and over her body, to allow himself the pleasure of  sliding his fingers in between her thighs to gather the wetness he could feel quickly dampening the cotton of his pants onto the tips of his fingers. But he’d be patient, he’d wait to touch her how he wanted. He’d wait to taste her. He needed her like this first.
“Tell me.” He echoed his earlier words. “Tell me all the things you think about.” Azriel watched her carefully, utterly enthralled at the way her head tipped back, eyebrows furrowing as she tried to focus on his request.
“I picture you telling me to get on my knees,” she began, her words punctuated by another press of her hips towards his. “I picture you telling me to open my mouth.”
Gods.
Her hands clutched at his shoulders and his fingers tightened on her hips.
How many times had he wrapped a fist around his cock, imagining her lips wrapped around him? How many times had he considered what the heat of her mouth would feel like as she hollowed her cheeks and took him down her throat?
“I picture buying one of those outfits from that shop in town that I’ve never dared to enter.” She continued, voice raw and trembling with need. “Something delicate and lacy… or maybe you prefer silk? Satin? I think about wearing those things and waiting for you in your room or in your office... sometimes you slowly take them off of me, sometimes you like to leave them on.”
Azriel’s cock throbbed at the mental image and he gave in to the temptation to rut up into her, leaning forward to press his lips to the hollow of her throat. 
He loved females  any which way but he’d always held a special appreciation for lingerie. He liked having an additional layer to undo. Liked the straps and the bows, the lace and the silk. He thought of it almost like jewelry, pretty adornments for an otherwise naked body. Most of all, he liked the confidence that those flimsy wisps of fabric seemed to bring.
The thought of Elain dressed like that was a fantasy he’d never allowed himself but now that she’d brought it up, he’d never be able to get it out of his mind. 
“My favourite…” She gasped as he lightly dragged his lips over that little peak of her collar bone. “Is when you bend me over your desk and…” 
Her words were cut off by another frantic gasp and Elain tensed in his arms. His face was pressed between her breasts as she leaned forward to rest her head against his shoulder. She slid her slickened core over him over and over again, her pace quickening until she was a writhing mess above him - unable to utter anything except a long string of curses he’d never thought he’d hear her say, let alone form a coherent sentence.
“That’s it, Elain.” Azriel coaxed her, allowing his hands to travel behind her until they were dangerously low on her back, angling her in a way that he knew would provide pressure exactly where she needed it most. “Come for me, sweet girl.”
Azriel relished in the subtle tremble  of her body as she slumped against him, the smooth rhythm of her hips faltering as she found her pleasure. He felt the curve of her lips as they turned up into a satiated smile against his throat, heard the way she moaned his name in rapid succession.
For all the times he'd imagined what this would be like, nothing would ever come close to the reality of her. Each sound Elain made was music to his ears. The feel of her skin was forever ingrained in his fingertips, the soft feel of her plush hips was something he'd never be able to shake from his hands.
“Good.” Azriel whispered, unable to keep his own satisfaction at finally having her like this from slipping into his tone. “Good girl. I’ve got you, Angel.”
He soothed his palms over her back, drawing small circles over the fabric of her nightgown, now damp with sweat, until she caught her breath and peeled back, untangling herself from him.
Elain eased off Azriel’s lap, kneeling on the blanket beside him and gazing up at him with wide, hazy eyes as if she couldn’t believe what they’d done despite having lured him from the comfort of his bed for this very purpose. 
Azriel stared back at her, maneuvering onto his knees to match her.He watched as her gaze dipped down, her teeth tugging at her full bottom lip at the realisation that he was still hard and aching for her.
She reached for him but Azriel took her wrist in his hand once again, redirecting it to his shoulder. 
“Are you sure you want this?” He asked, gently tucking her hair behind her ears before lowering his face to hers until his lips hovered over hers. 
“Yes.” She breathed without even an ounce of hesitation. Her body keened even closer to his - every inch of her torso pressed tight against him. It took everything in him not to succumb to that touch. To let her slide her hands below the waistband of his pants. To lay her back down on this blanket and sink deep inside her. To let her envelop him completely until he forgot everything but her name.
Instead, his fingers flexed around her hip and he held her firmly in place, maintaining that miniscule gap between their lips. 
“Patience, Elain.” He grinned at the disappointment that flickered across her face and shifted the hand that rested on her neck to tilt her face just how he wanted. “Have you any idea? All the things I have planned for you?” 
He didn’t give her a chance to answer, relenting and ghosting his lips over hers once, twice, before he finally kissed her. 
He kept it soft and slow, his mouth sliding over hers in a way that left her utterly breathless. 
He could scent the fresh wave of her desire. That sweetest scent of jasmine and honey edged with a musk that he swore called just to him. He knew that every nerve in her body was begging for him just as every part of him was screaming at him to indulge in her. But Azriel held firm, took his fill by way of this singular kiss and allowed his lips and tongue and his roaming hands to deliver the unspoken promise that this night was only the beginning for them. That he intended to take his time acquanting himself with her in all the ways he’d dreamed now that she’d offered the truth of the intensity of  her own wants and needs to him.
He’d do everything he could to bring each and every one of their fantasies to life.
By the time Elain brought herself to open her eyes after Azriel had pulled away from that shattering kiss with a whispered instruction to go back to bed and one final kiss to her temple, the Shadowsinger had disappeared back through the low hanging branches of the willow tree. 
She was left kneeling alone in the dappled moonlight - the blue light of his siphons a distant memory as she bought a shaking fingertip to her lips to press at the swollenness and feel the lingering heat - the only tangible evidence that she hadn’t imagined any of what had just happened with only the full moon as their witness.
Later, when she gathered the energy to raise up on shaky limbs and find her way back to her room,  she caught two shadows emerging from the willow tree where they’d been hiding - lingering and trailing behind her as she walked through the garden and back into the townhouse, only skittering away to the upstairs hallway and back to their master once she was safely inside, her bedroom door firmly shut behind her.
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tswaney17 · 6 months
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Obessesion
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Azriel loved everything about Elain.
He loved her smile.
He loved the brightness of her eyes.
He loved how she had such a warm and caring heart.
But he was obsessed with her neck.
He thought it might be that deep Illyrian instinct inside of him that came roaring to the surface whenever she bared the pale skin of her neck for him. A desire to lap at the delicate flesh with his tongue after he brutally bit it until a bruise blossomed from his machinations.
Azriel loved to mark her body with his bites. Loved how beneath the modest gowns she donned, she wore his claims like brands on her skin.
Boldly.
Proudly.
She loved being ravished by his mouth. Could settle on his lap or beneath him for hours as he let his teeth and tongue taste every inch of her body.
Nobody knew that under her clothes she was always peppered by a garden of black and blue and purple from him. Flowers upon her skin, some freshly bloomed while others had slowly begun to wilt away.
He smiled every time she undressed in front of him as he counted the bruises still visible upon her flesh.
Tonight was no different.
They were sequestered at the Townhouse, riding out a bad snow storm. Azriel had barely been able to arrive before the worst of it hit, kicking the front steps to dust snow off his boots before entering the warmth of the house.
Elain, as usual, was found in the kitchen, a spread of baked goods surrounding her on the marble counters. She smiled at him, a slash of brilliant white between pink lips. “You made it. I was afraid the storm might have kept you away,” she said, pulling a loaf of fresh baked bread from the oven.
Az leaned a hip on the doorway, brushing loose snowflakes from his thick hair. “Nothing could keep me away from here, beautiful. But it does look like we’ll be stuck here for a few days.”
A pretty blush dusted her cheeks at the endearment. “How awful,” she muttered, lips turning up at the corners. “Whatever will we do to pass the time?” Those dark eyes went molten under his heated stare.
He beckoned her with a crook of his finger, taking her hand when she approached and guiding them to the sitting room, Elain perching on his lap.
“I say,” he began, running his hands up and down her body, feeling the cotton fabric beneath his scarred fingers. “We take all the time in the world to enjoy the company of your bed.”
Elain’s body shuddered in response and she leaned forward slightly, providing him prime access to that perfect neck. “Why don’t you give me a little preview of what to anticipate?” she murmured, voice husky with need.
Twisting her hair around his fist for leverage, he brought his mouth to her skin. Felt her pulse flutter beneath his lips.
A soft kiss. One to just tease her a bit. Then another, this one more insistent. And another, until his teeth scraped over neck, sucking the flesh between them and biting.
Elain moaned, hands bracing themselves on his strong shoulders. Her hips wiggled on his lap, grazing his growing erection.
Fuck, she always felt so good. Tasted so sweet.
He released her neck, licking the hurt away before drawing the same spot back into his mouth. He’d work the same area over and over again into the night. Until he was sure it’d take at least a week for it to even begin fading.
Because Elain wearing his marks on her skin, on her neck…yeah, that was his obsession.
~~~~~
I finally wrote something. 😭 This was just a quick phone fic, but I can’t tell you how long it’s been since I’ve actually written something. Please lord, let this be my comeback. 🛐🙏
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slytherhys · 8 days
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Wedding Season - Coming Soon!
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Hi guys! Just wanted to share a moodboard I made for a new project I'm working on. I'm so excited to share it with you and I really hope it's something everyone will enjoy. 😊
Synopsis: If there's one thing Elain Archeron knows about weddings - despite her lack of experience and overall fear of commitment - is that attending one alone at the ripe age of 24 is something akin to torture. Let alone 3 weddings. Let alone when your ex is attending. With his own date.
So Elain does what Elain does best: she fakes it until she makes it.
And if her plan includes a broody - and single - Azriel Rosehall who barely tolerates her presence, has a clear distante for big events, and is probably - most likely - still pinning for one of the brides... Well, then I guess Wedding Season is open.
A few ao3 tags:
❣️ fake dating (kinda)
❣️ idiots in love
❣️ azriel might have a high heels kink
❣️ slow dancing
Number of Chapters: around 10 (short fic)
When am I posting it: I'm currently working on both this fic and on my Elriel Month prompts but I'm going to try and post the first chapter before April ends! 😊
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bloomingdarkgarden · 25 days
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I am going to say this as gracefully as possible.
There are new people in this fandom everyday, people who have never experienced fandom before, and are not aware of the courtesies surrounding fan-created work. Creative overlap totally happens within these spaces, and I have a lot of grace with those boundaries. I do believe in giving people the benefit of the doubt, particularly when they lack experience. That being said:
- Borrowing strangely specific developmental plot elements unique to a story to build your own without permission is stealing.
- Taking a sentence or metaphor from a fic and marginally warping it to pass as your own is also not ok and the original author can almost always identify it.
I could go on, or be less kind, or share screenshots, but I'm not going to (at this time). The effort I've put into the Darkgarden is immeasurable. I have dedicated 13 months and close to 1000 hours crafting this story via literal tears and 4am sessions. My voice as a writer is, well, strange- and quite distinct. This is a VERY popular story within a relatively small fandom community. If someone borrows original elements from it, it is going to be brought to my attention.
A couple of close ACOTAR writer friends have also experienced plagiarism over the last few months and it really just isn't ok, no matter the degree.
I can't explain what it feels like to see ideas + expressions I've toiled over being blatantly taken and used elsewhere. The feeling is completely arresting, gut-wrenching, and quite frankly, hurts me.
I find peace at night knowing that I crafted this story raw from my heart. It reflects in the writing.
Can you say the same?
Have a great weekend.
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fawnandshadows · 2 months
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How You Get The Girl
Chapter 24
Ao3 ~ Masterlist
Word Count: 2.2k
Warnings: Smut, Language
Elain was an expert in quick changes, but slipping into the lacy lingerie that she had bought specifically for Azriel was by far the most important of them all. She was just browsing online when she saw the dusty lilac babydoll. As soon as she laid eyes on it she wanted to see Azriel’s reaction to her wearing it. It was feminine and romantic and she just knew he’d like it. 
Her suitcase was unzipped and her clothes were falling out of it and moved into the far corner of the room, hastily shoved to the side, and her travel clothes were on the floor next to it. Hopefully Azriel would be too focused on her to notice the mess she made. 
She heard his footsteps in the hall and her heart jumped into her throat. His footsteps were quiet, so quiet that everyone else thought he was silent, but she was so deeply in tune with him that she heard him no matter what.
The doorknob to her room turned, and Elain found herself falling back onto one elbow and she positioned her legs in a way that she knew was sultry and showed off her full hips. 
Damn, she silently cursed herself, she should have packed heels. 
Elain watched as Azriel walked into the room and stop in his tracks when he saw her splayed out on the bed. Her golden curls tossed behind her shoulders. He looked like he was hit by an invisible truck, his body completely stopping short. 
“Hi.” Elain breathed, smiling at him. She had planned to stay sultry and seductive, but his reaction caused the biggest smile to overtake her face. 
“Fuck.” 
She couldn’t help but throw her head back and laugh as he dropped his suitcase on the floor. And not even a sexy laugh, but one that was full-bodied and had her gasping for air. 
“I’m supposed to be seducing you.” Elain said through her laughter, which caused her body to shake. His hazel eyes slid along the curve of her body before latching onto her heavy breasts. 
“It’s fucking working.” Azriel growled and started towards bed. 
“Uh-uh-uh!” Elain stopped him with a pointed finger and extended a leg towards him. “Condom.” 
Azriel cursed under his breath and riffled through his suitcase for his box of condoms, and when he found them he tossed the package onto the bed next to her. 
He pulled off his shirt and let it drop to the floor, and Elain felt her pussy clench at the sight of his muscled torso. His brown skin beautiful, tattooed, and scarred. Her hands balled into fists to stop herself from reaching for him. She wanted those hard muscles under the pads of her fingers. Wanted to feel his body react to her touch. 
“I can’t believe this is happening.” Elain said, staring up at him and he unbuckled his belt. 
Her toes curled at the sound of his zipper coming undone. 
 Azriel was silent as he shucked off his jeans, taking his briefs with him, and then he was naked standing before her. 
Her chest rose and fell as she took heavy breathes. 
She squirmed as he walked closer to her, and as soon as he was close enough Elain placed her hands on his bare hips. Her thumbs grazing the sharp edges of his hip bones before moving her hands up and over his abs. 
“I’ve wanted to do this for a while.” Elain admitted, and before Azriel could question her she moved forward and ran her tongue up along the ridges of his six-pack. His muscles quaking underneath her. 
“Fuck,” Azriel groaned, his hands digging into her hair. “How long, exactly, have you wanted to lick my abs?” 
“Too long.” Elain said and pressed a kiss into his navel, her humid breath ghosting over his skin. 
Azriel let out a pained groan as Elain slid from his grasp and fell to her back. 
“This,” His hand landed flat on her stomach, and her muscles clenched under his touch. “This is beautiful, Elain,” His fingers worked the silky fabric. “And one day I’ll fuck you while you wear it, but not today.” 
Azriel lifted the scrap of fabric over her head and threw it over his shoulder, and then he slowly pulled the matching panties down her legs. 
“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” Azriel said, pressing kisses into her soft belly. He brought one hand between her thighs and groaned into her skin. “And wet.” 
“It’s the anticipation.” Elain said, sighing as Azriel clasped one of her nipples between his teeth. Gently teasing the hardened bud. 
His fingers started working between her legs, brushing over her clit before plunging one finger inside of her warmth. And then another. Thrusting in and out while his thumb pressed on her swollen bud. 
“Azriel.” Elain gasped, arching as she clenched around his fingers. 
He propped himself onto his elbow and stared down at her, taking in the way her eyes screwed shut and the way her mouth hung open in pleasure. 
“More,” Elain whispered, opening her eyes slightly to look at him. “Please.” 
Azriel didn’t say anything. He slowly retracted his hand and then reached across the bed to grab one of the condoms that had fallen out of the box. 
The tearing of foil sounded through the room. 
Elain watched as he slid the condom over his cock and bit down on her bottom lip as her stomach tumbled with excitement. She pushed herself to her elbows, her hair falling messily behind her, and looked as Azriel positioned himself at her entrance. 
With one hand on her hip, Azriel sank into her. Slow and steady and one of Elain’s hands came up to grip Azriel’s bicep, her nails sinking into his muscle. 
“Fuck,” Azriel said, dropping down onto one hand next to her. His black hair falling into his face. “You’re so tight. And so fucking wet. You feel like a fucking dream.” 
Elain took deep breaths, getting used to the size and feel of him. How he stretched her so deliciously to the point of almost pain. 
It had been so long since Elain last had sex that it felt like the first time all over again. Well, not exactly. There was no awkward fumbling. No discomfort. Just pleasure. 
“You,” Elain gasped as Azriel sank in another inch. “Feel even bigger than you look.” 
Slowly, Azriel pushed forward into her until Elain was completely full. 
Elain gasped as she felt the press of his piercing deep inside of her, in a place that no one had ever reached before. 
By pure reflex, one of Elain’s hands reached for his tight ass cheek, her nails digging into his flesh. 
Her hips shifted up as his pelvis ground against her clit, and the walls of sex clenched around him, causing Azriel’s breath to turn jagged. 
“I pictured fucking you for hours and hours the first time,” Azriel said heavily, his breath against his damp breath gasping against her neck. “Until we were both seeing stars, but fuck you feel better than I imagined.” 
“We can,” Elain’s breath jolted as he pulled out, his piercing pressing against her clit before thrusting back into her, her wetness sounding through the room. “Still do that.” 
Azriel started to move his hips faster, more erratic as his control started slipping further and further away from him. 
The sound of his pounding into her filled the room, causing Elain to buck her hips. 
“Fuck.” Azriel breathed, thrusting harder. 
Hot pleasure was mounting within Elain, and with one last push Elain hit her breaking point. The walls of her cunt clenching his dick as her orgasm cratered through her. 
Azriel grabbed her hips, making sure he was as deep seated as possible, before coming inside of her. 
“That was…” Elain drifted off breathlessly, loving the feel of his muscle-hardened, sweaty body against hers. 
“I agree.” Azriel said, breathing heavily through his nose before pulling her in for a sloppy kiss. 
Elain reached down to pull off the used condom, and she tossed it on the floor without a second thought. 
“Thank you.” Elain said as Azriel dropped next to her. She wasted no time before snuggling into his side, wanting every inch of their skin to touch. 
“For what?” Azriel asked, his breath slowly turning back to normal. His hands felt her entire body. Running up the length of her back and lush bottom. 
“It was perfect.” Elain sighed, kissing his strong neck. 
Azriel held her closer. 
— —
When Azriel woke, it was slowly. 
This wasn’t the first time that Elain had recognized it, but it was different. Maybe it was because she still felt sore from their day (and night) together, but the way Azriel was clinging to her and burrowing his face into her neck made it seem as if there was nowhere else he wanted to be. 
“Good morning,” Elain said, turning and wrapping her arms around his neck. Their lips came together in a leisurely kiss. “Would you like to explain to me why I smell coffee?” Elain asked against his lips. 
“I set it up last night when I got us dinner,” Azriel said in a sleep ridden voice. One that made Elain’s bones melt. He cracked open one hazel eye. “I figured we’d be a bit busy last night and wouldn’t want to get up and brew it this morning.”
“You think of everything,” Elain sighed and pressed a kiss into his hard peck. “I love that about you.” 
Azriel placed a kiss on top of her head. 
Elain moved to get out of bed and right when she was about to plant her feet on the wooden floor, she squealed and jerked back. Almost tumbling into Azriel. 
“What the fuck?” Azriel asked, worry pulling at his brows, and his hands grabbing Elain to pull her away from the edge of the bed. “Is there a mouse?” 
“No,” Elain shook her head and looked at him with wide eyes. “How many times did we do it last night?” 
She blinked at him, her face flushing. 
Azriel tried to stop the smile from forming fully on his lips. 
“Quite a few.” Azriel responded. 
Elain jerked her head, urging Azriel to peek over the edge of the bed. 
“Did we go through the entire box?” Elain whisper-yelled, and then fought the embarrassment that rose within her. There was nobody here to hear her. And she certainly wasn’t whispering last night. 
Azriel rubbed his lips with his finger as he looked at the used condoms they had discarded on the floor. 
It was a bit of a concerning sight to see first thing in the morning. 
Elain crawled across the bed, her bum in the air, and reached for the box at the foot of the bed.
“That is a much better sight.” Azriel said, tilting his head to take in Elain’s rounded bottom. 
She looked over her shoulder at him, her cheeks still pink, and shook the empty box at him. 
“We should make a run to the store,” Elain said, watching as Azriel moved towards her, and not stopping him as he grasped her hips to twist her so that she laid on her back. “To get some more.” 
Azriel nodded in agreement and pressed his morning erection into her wet, swollen pussy. 
Elain moaned and moved against him. 
“I’m going on the pill, or something. Whatever the doctor recommends.” Elain gasped as his piercing flicked over her clit. 
Azriel stilled above her. 
“You don’t have to.” Azriel said, pulling back. 
“I want to feel you inside me… with no barriers. And I trust you.” 
Azriel placed one large hand on her neck and pulled her in for a passionately slow kiss. Their hips still moving against each other. 
If Elain was with anybody else, then she might have been embarrassed by her body’s reaction to him. How wet she got just from his kiss and the feel of his cock moving against her sex — but she felt too good, and Azriel was just as turned on by her body as she was by his. 
He moved again, pressing her deeper into the mattress. 
Elain’s body pulsed as an orgasm rushed through her, and she felt Azriel coming all over her pussy and stomach. The warm liquid landing on her sensitive skin. 
“That was,” Elain took a deep breath. “Hot.” 
“The things I want to do to you, Elain.” Azriel groaned against her lips. A sinful promise in his voice.
Elain swallowed. 
“We’ll go to the store after breakfast?” Elain asked and Azriel nodded in agreement. 
Before anything else could happen, Elain crawled out of bed and grabbed the tshirt Azriel had discarded on the floor. 
“Maybe we should have coffee in the kitchen,” Elain said, biting her lip as a naked Azriel lounged in twisted sheets. Sheets that they had twisted the night before. And that morning. “That way we might behave?”  Elain ignored the condom graveyard that littered on the floor. 
“I don’t think location matters for us, beautiful.” Azriel said, his eyes warm as they looked at his girlfriend. 
Elain nodded. 
“But,” He continued. “I’ll clean up our mess and meet you in the kitchen. The sooner we leave, the sooner I can fuck you again.” 
A blush coated Elain’s cheeks and she looked at the mess they had made on her and said, “I need a washcloth first.”
-------
tagging: @123moiaussi @fuckmelifesucks @thefangirlofhp @sakurakittypeach @nikethestatue @tswaney17 @impossiblescissorspeachpaper @feyredarlinq @duskwhisperer @nyxreads @rinadragomir @secretpuppyflower @captainbrucebanner @ultadverb @irisesforelain @shedoessoshedoes  @magnolia-blossom87 @sheenabeene @nivem565  @casuallivi @rhysiedarling @elain99-blog @athena-85 @swankii-art-teacher @reverie-tales @jujugirlfrombookstore @shadowflorecita @shy-violet-soul @thisloveseternal
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greenleaf777 · 1 month
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Elriels picture this!
Az & elain are still avoiding each other, & Azriel finds her sleeping on the couch so he pulls a blanket over her, tucks her in & whispers “I Love You” cause thats the only time he can.
BUT Elain is just pretending to sleep like a good spy, so she hears him. She whispers “I Love You too.” After he walks away.
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Someone write me fanfic thanks
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nikethestatue · 11 days
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A Match Baked In Heaven
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Sorry for the long break y'all. Life and all. Here is an update.
Chapter XV
Things Ain’t Like They Used To Be
The beginning of the end started innocuously and unremarkably. There was nothing to suggest that things would be changing. And they shouldn’t have been changing either, because everything was…happiness. 
Azriel had disappeared soon after Christmas dinner was over and the last of the trifle was eaten, and Elain couldn’t find him. However, since she couldn’t find Piglet either, she hoped that her boys were together. 
She had a fun night, singing carols, teasing Nesta along with Cassian, and risking her wrath, because Cassian was hilarious and Nesta was all pissy since Elain and Cassian teamed up for the first round of games. Then, while drinking after-dinner cocktails, everyone played more games, and Feyre and their father won. Rhys and Elain came in second, but Rhys lamented that Azriel wasn’t around because he’d beat everyone. 
“He is wildly competitive,” Rhys whispered to Elain. “Not surprising considering he is a professional athlete, but that man will win any game.”
It was then that Elain realised how much she missed Azriel next to her. After their silly row earlier in the day, things weren’t the same and Elain hated it! She hated that their first Christmas together wasn’t perfect. The fact that she even had him with her here, in Rosehall, with her family, having Christmas with all of them like he was part of the family, part of her, was exhilarating enough! She never thought that it would happen; that she’d be at her ancestral home, with the man she loved, with her sisters, her father, her dog, but here they were. Therefore, while the festivities were still going strong, Elain slipped away from the reception and went to find Azriel and Piglet. Just before she rounded the corner though, she heard Cassian’s voice calling her,
“Hey, petal. Wait up.”
Cassian looked a little buzzed, his jacket off, his white tuxedo shirt unbuttoned at the collar, the bow tie untied and hanging over his neck, his hair flowing just past his shoulders. No wonder Nesta, the icy, prickly Nesta, was all aflutter over him. The man was almost pornographically handsome, in the most primal of ways. This was the man who was going to bend you over, fuck you within an inch of your life, and you’d turn around and thank him. The raw, beasial beauty of him was truly breathtaking.
Elain stopped her thoughts spiralling out of control, because it was probably inappropriate to think of her sister’s new love interest in this manner. But Elain was…horny. Since last night, she was horny (well, she’s been horny and a little desperate for a while now) and the phantom feel of Azriel’s wicked hand inside of her still lingered and offered a pleasant memory by keeping her sore and wet.
Nevertheless, Elain thought that if Azriel wasn’t her soulmate, she’d absolutely give Cassian a lot of attention. Because this man was devastating. 
He came closer, propping his arm against the wall. Elain looked up at him, all 6”6 of him and he snickered, “Well, we destroyed them at Pictionary, didn’t we?”
“We annihilated!” Elain agreed savagely, nodding.
Cassian laughed at her, but then his face changed to a more serious expression, and he asked,
“Az treating you good, petal?”
Elain frowned at the strange question and said,
“He is!”
“Yeah?”
“Yes. Why?”
Cassian avoided answering directly, instead, saying,
“He can get a little intense, you know,”
Elain laughed at that.
“You think?” she shook her head. 
“Are you okay with that?”
“That he is incredibly intense, barks ‘you are mine!’ and has me saved as ‘Mrs. Night’ on his phone?” she raised her brow at Cassian.
He pressed his tongue into his cheek and after a long pause, nodded at last. 
“Yes, that’s what I mean.”
She shrugged, 
“He is also generous, loving, unbelievably inappropriate but also strangely gallant. I have to take the good with the bad and the questionable,” she said decisively.
“He is new to all of this,” Cassian reminded her cautiously.
“What?”
Cassian paused again, until he finally uttered, 
“Love.”
Elain swallowed loudly, unable to respond. 
She and Azriel had never gone as far as the ‘L” word. They’ve exchanged words of tenderness, and Azriel never stopped coming up with new and extravagant endearments for her. But he never said that he was in love with her, and neither did she tell him the same.
“You know his history,” Cassian continued, “he never felt like this about a woman. Never been with a woman long enough to feel much of anything.”
“Cass, I think it’s premature to discuss all of this,” Elain muttered, her tone panicked.
Cassian ran his tongue over his lower lip and said, “Just be gentle with him, Elain. Be kind to his heart. He is not himself because of you.”
“What do you mean?” she demanded, worrying her lip with her teeth.
“Nothing really. Just that he is navigating a wholly new territory. He isn’t as confident as he appears to be.”
“Azriel…he is very special to me,” Elain murmured.
“Yeah, that’s exactly what you shouldn’t tell him,” Cassian warned quickly.
Her brow furrowed, “what, exactly?”
“Special. Don’t use words like that with him. You either confess your love for him and tell him that you are his. Or nothing, He doesn’t do things halfway. It’s all or nothing with him.”
Elain sighed, thinking. What Cassian was saying made sense, though she wasn’t sure how to approach that conversation yet.
“Thanks Cassian. But we are just fine. Brilliant even.”
He grunted something unintelligible and then said, “well, good night then. Happy Christmas, Elain. I didn’t think that that’s where we’d be for Christmas, but I can’t say that I mind it.”
She smiled and nodded, “yeah, I don’t mind it as well. Happy Christmas.”
Elain turned and she was almost out of sight, when Cassian called after her again.
“Oi!”
She glanced over her shoulder at him, watching him rub his chin, looking pensive.
“You been to his flat?” he questioned. 
Another odd inquiry.
She nodded, “yes. We went to his yesterday. Why?”
“You liked it?”
“The views were amazing!!” she said enthusiastically. “But Canary Wharf…you know,” she shrugged indifferently.
“Boring, eh?”
Elain grinned, “it is!”
“Did you see a cage anywhere?” he suddenly asked.
“A cage?” Elain looked utterly confused. “What cage?”
“So no cage?”
“Oh, for Piglet? Yes. Az got him three beds and a ton of toys, but also a huge cage! Can you imagine?” she giggled.
Cassian stilled at her words.
“Yeah,” he murmured thoughtfully. “He was talking about it.”
“Pigled isn’t into cages,” Elain huffed. “He’d bite him if he was put in a cage!’
“That’s what I told him too,” Cassian smiled at her. “Well, good night then.”
“Night Cass!”
-
Elain opened the door to the bedroom quietly and tiptoed inside. It was dim in the room, only one lamp illuminating the spacious, luxurious space. She heard Piglet and his little snores first. Then she found Azriel lying on the bed, dressed in joggers and a t-shirt, his arm thrown over his eyes. He was barefoot and looked comfortable in his sleep, his breathing deep and even. Piglet was sleeping on his side next to his dad, oblivious to everything, not even sensing Elain’s arrival. Or if he did, he didn’t react. Great guard dog he was! But she supposed he was trusting Azriel to protect her from serial killers lurking in the garden. He was apparently ‘off duty’.
She watched them for a moment, until suddenly Azriel opened his arms, but not his eyes. Wordlessly, Elain approached the bed and climbed on top of him, straddling his hips and burying her face in his chest. His arms banded around her and he pressed her closer to him. She didn’t care that she was wearing her dress and that her voluminous skirt took up half of the bed. She didn’t even care about wearing shoes. 
He stroked her bare back lightly, his harsh, uneven skin and strong fingers sending shivers of pleasure down her body. 
“I thought I lost you,” Elain whispered, her voice sounding desperate.
He sighed and drew his hand along her spine.
“No. Not just yet.”
“Yet?” she gasped and looked up at him.
His face was sombre, but then he smiled at her and caressed her head, and then her face.
“Are we fighting?” she asked, knowing how stupid she sounded, but she didn’t even care. She knew that she kind of freaked out at him in the morning and it was so silly–all because of ‘Mrs. Night’ on his phone. 
“Do you want to fight?” he asked seriously, watching her closely.
She shook her head. 
“No. No I don’t.”
“Alright then. We’ll leave the fighting until after Christmas.”
“But you left,” she whispered. “So you are angry with me?”
He smiled at her gently and lied, “nah, I just have a headache. Pink was also all partied out, so I took him out–sorry, there is a pile of his turds somewhere in the garden–and then we came back here.”
Elain rubbed her cheek against his neck, breathing in his crisp, sharp scent, as she clutched his biceps, feeling her fingers tremble. The stress of thinking that he’d left her, that he got into his car and drove away suddenly hit her so hard, she shivered and felt cold sweat cover her body at once. 
“What's wrong?” he asked, feeling her tension and her unease. He tipped her chin up and looked down at her with a frown.
“Nothing,” she said. “All is good,” she stroked his arm. “All is good now.”
She sat up, still straddling him and then cupped his face in her palm. 
“Everything is good, Az. Because you are with me.”
He gave her an assessing glance, like he didn’t believe her, and then asked, “is that enough?”
“Yes. For me it is.”
She reached into her bag, which was left by the bed, and took out a small box, wrapped in a blue ribbon.
“I wanted to give you your Christmas gift.”
She blushed at the words and ducked her head shyly, handing the box to him. Azriel sat up, cocking his brow and looked at it with interest, and maybe even surprise. When she attempted to slide off him, he wrapped his arm around her hips, keeping her in place and said, “open it”.
Elain pulled on the ribbon and then opened the box. 
He looked inside and then declared with a grin, “yes, yes I will!”
“Wha…”
“It’s a ring! You are asking me to marry you?” he said definitively. “So I am saying ‘yes’,”
“My god!” she swatted at him. “That’s not what it is! You are a madman!”
“Maybe I am, or maybe I am not, but I am now an engaged madman,” he told her. “Put a ring on it, baby,” and he wiggled his finger at her.
Exasperated, Elain sighed dramatically and announced, 
“It’s for the headaches you get…that everybody gives you. It’s supposed to stimulate brain activity and specific pressure points and relieve your headaches,”
He stared at her and then laughed out loud, startling Piglet, who looked over his shoulder with a sleepy, bewildered gaze wondering what was happening.
“Sorry little lad,” Azriel patted the pug’s side. “Go back to sleep.”
“This is amazing, beautiful!” he exclaimed then. “And invaluable. Between my teammates and Cass and Rhys, this is the perfect gift!”
Elain smiled happily and added, “it’s not the only thing it does. If you press here,” she showed him, “you’ll get background noise to sleep, or drown out any other noises. I imagine that travelling with your team could get loud at times.”
“Yes, indeed,” he agreed, looking at the ring and pressing invisible buttons. 
“It measures all your vitals,” Elain added. “And tells you to sleep if you aren’t sleeping enough,”
“Where did you get this?”
“I had it custom made. Just for you.”
Azriel put the ring on his thumb and twisted his tattooed hand in front of his eyes, admiring the new bring. It was an elegant piece–black, with a silver insert.
“Do you like it?” she asked shyly, rubbing her finger over his thumb.
Azriel cupped her cheek in his hand and pulled her closer to him.
His breath fanned over her bare shoulder, when he placed a gentle kiss on it.
“You are magical, Elain Archeron. A little faery,” he whispered. “I am one lucky fucker.”
Elain snorted and scoffed, “your language is the worst!”
“Sorry, pretty girl, you’ll have to live with it for the rest of your life,” he shrugged innocently. 
“Oh is that so? The rest of my life?” 
He drew his thumb over his lower lip, his expression sobering and becoming more serious.
Elain thought that he’d go on some tangent about marriage and her being his, but instead, he said, “I wasn’t sure if I should give you your present…”
He rustled under his pillow and then pulled out a box. It was much too large for a ring, and Elain, who was waiting with bated breath, wasn't sure if she was relieved or disappointed. But whatever it was, she was excited to see it. 
“Stay where you are,” Azriel ordered firmly, insisting that she remain seated atop of his hips. “You may take the dress off, if you so desire,” he suggested casually.
“I’ll decide once I see what you got me,” she told him firmly and he smiled. 
“Well, happy Christmas then,” he murmured and opened the box for her. Elain’s breath skittered over his hands when she beheld a stunning diamond and sapphire necklace displayed against the cream satin of the box. It was a Vacheron Constantin no less–the finest of the finest. Not a trifling thing either–a ‘garden’ necklace of clusters of large diamonds and even larger sapphires, shaped into a chain of flowers. A gift that a husband would give his wife for the holidays (if he were a millionaire footballer that is). 
“Azriel,” she sucked in her breath, entranced by the exquisite beauty of the necklace.
He was about to unleash on her for saying ‘I couldn’t possibly’, but she beat him to it and suddenly–to his utter delight–pulled up her long curled hair and presented him with her long delicate neck. “Put it on me?”
Azriel’s head went quiet. There was something profound about this moment, with Elain allowing him to put this visible ‘collar’ around her neck–accepting him, permitting him to do that to her. For her. He moved closer: her breasts, still contained within her structured dress, pressed into his chest, and he loved the feel of them, while he wrapped his arms around her and fastened the lock of the necklace in the back of her neck.
“Beautiful,” he breathed, watching the diamonds gleam and sparkle in the low light.
“Is it too much?” she wondered, as her fingers slid over the stones.
“No. Just enough,” he decided, admiring her. “A little bouquet of diamonds and sapphires for my pretty flower girl.”
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Elain's necklace
Fucking beat a crown that Rhys put on Feyre. Damn peacock. 
“May I remove this unnecessarily big dress for you?” Azriel offered smoothly, and without waiting for an answer, he found the zipper in the back of her gown.
“Az, we can’t do it!” she hissed in alarm.
“Do what, exactly?” he teased, while he slowly slid the zipper down.
Scrambling and bumbling, she muttered, “you know! that…You know what!”
“That and what, huh,” he chuckled. “It’s not like I’ve been anticipating getting laid tonight, sweetness. I mean, I’ve pretty much lost all hope by now, but,”
“Excuse me!” she exclaimed. “We’ve been dating for 3 weeks!”
“I feel like it’s been much longer, since October.” He corrected her, while opening the dress up in the back and letting it fall away from her body.
“October? October?!?!” she cried. “No way! We only met in October.”
“Well, and I’ve been dating you since I’ve met you,” he reminded her calmly. “Not sure what you’ve been doing.”
“Well, I,”
“Yeah, so it’s pretty reasonable for me to expect to have sex with my girlfriend after three months,”  he glared at her.
“I can’t!” she argued weakly. “Not with my dad in the same house…and Piglet right here,”
“Oh, bring dad into this, why don’t you! And Pinky is a dog, who cares?!”
“A dog? He isn’t a dog. He is my son!” she argued fiercely. “I gave birth to him, you know!”
“Uh-uh, did you now? I beg to differ,”
“Why is that?”
“Because I don’t remember making him, and the only son you’d be birthing would be mine,” he stated definitively. “So there is that.”
“I don’t think that’s how it is,”
“I do. But we’ll have fun making ours,” Azriel promised and gently squeezed her nipple between his fingers.
While she was pontificating about being her pug’s birth mother, Azriel managed to bare her to him and now he whistled softly to himself. 
A fine pair of full, pear-shaped breasts had tumbled from her gown and they were incredible. Azriel has had his share of peeks and glances, but even last night, when he was fingering her, she was still wearing a bra. Now, the titties were out, and before Elain could make up some excuse, he was dipping his face to them and before she could even gasp, he latched onto her nipple with his lips, pulling hard, and sucking half of her breast into his mouth. His hand wrapped around her neck–not choking her, but keeping her keen and at attention–while he circled his tongue around the nipple, as he held her on top of him firmly. Elain inhaled sharply, watching him, while he crouched in his uncomfortable position, and watched her. 
Elain was warm and soft, and her sublime tit was like melted butter on his tongue–silky and soft and rich. She felt so good in his arms, shivering every time he gave her little swollen bud another suck, his thumb stroking her lovely neck, his fingers brushing against the cold of her new necklace. He also liked the way the ring looked on his thumb. Black and sexy.
He pulled away from her breast and then licked her other nipple, nipping on it with his teeth, before biting roughly. She yipped, but he only drew his thumb over her mouth, quieting her down.
“I am not gonna fuck you tonight,” he whispered, sucking on the other nipple as well, making it nice and puffy, “only under one condition,”
“What?” she breathed sharply, her eyes wide, her skin hot in his hands.
“You are sleeping nice and naked. Next to me. Don’t care about Pink here, don’t care about dad, or anyone else. You’re sleeping naked and I am jamming my dick into her bare arse.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me, Ellie. Although of course you may wear the necklace.”
“Ohhh, you are so magnanimous!” she scoffed, though her fingers tangled in his hair and she very clearly enjoyed what he was doing to her. He kissed each lovely globe with small, tender kisses, then he licked around the nipples, soft and slow, savouring every bit of her skin. Elain panted and rubbed against him, the thin material of his joggers getting pleasantly damp against her pussy. 
“I am that,” he nodded in agreement and then fell back on the pillows. “Go clean up and I expect you next to me, nice and naked and wet, sharpish. Got it?”
Elain rolled her eyes, but climbed off of him and walked to the bathroom, dragging her dress around her hips, while he was chuckling an evil laugh.
While Elain was in the bathroom, Piglet woke up for a few minutes and then demanded that Azriel spoon him. Azriel moved away a bit, and Piglet moved closer, then Azriel moved again, and Piglet sidled up to him. Once Azriel got the message, he tugged the pug closer to him, but the moment he removed his hand, Piglet put his paw on his hand, indicating that he better be snuggled right this minute. So Azriel had no choice but to cuddle the dog next to his body, and Piglet put both of his paws over Azriel’s forearm, keeping him in place. Piglet was going to take full advantage of this situation–he wasn’t allowed to sleep in the same bed with his Elain and while he could nap in her bed–which he often did–sleeping overnight wasn’t permitted. Here, today, he knew he was going to sleep with her and Az, and he was going to require full-on snuggles while he was at it. As soon as he had Azriel in his possession, Piglet fell back asleep.
“Close your eyes!” Azriel heard.
He laughed.
“Absolutely not!”
“Fine, I am not coming out then.”
“You gonna sleep in the tub, Ellie-girl?”
“If I have to!”
He snorted and then said, “fine. My eyes are closed.”
“Truly?”
“Absolutely. Come on, come out.”
Elain tiptoed into the bedroom and gasped, because Azriel was snuggling with the sleeping Piglet, and had his eyes WIDE open.
“I hate you,” she moaned.
But Azriel’s big hazel eyes lit up at the sight of her and she gushed, “you are so fucking gorgeous, Ellie. I can’t believe my stupid luck.”
Elain blushed at his words and wrung her fingers nervously and she silently walked across the carpet. She had kept her word–she was completely nude except for her new gorgeous necklace. 
“You’ll have to be the biggest spoon, baby,” Azriel told her. “I’ve been made to spoon the fur son. He was cross with me when I attempted to move,”
Elain chuckled, secretly enjoying how his eye devoured her. She never considered her body to be anything remotely perfect, but the way Azriel was looking at her made her think that maybe she’d been too hard on herself. Maybe seeing her through his eyes was all she ever needed, because he saw the beauty in her that she never allowed herself to acknowledge. 
She got in bed next to him–his massive body warm and firm, exuding his innate strength, but also calmness, all the while brimming with power. It felt good. Like she was in the safest place in the world. 
“Did you like Christmas?” she asked quietly, kissing his shoulder.
“It’s a good Christmas,” he stated simply. “You and me and the dog. Well, and family, I guess.”
She laughed at that. He was very nonchalant about the ‘family’ bit.
…Surprisingly, even though there was a naked Elain in bed with him, Azriel fell asleep quickly and without any usual struggles. Perhaps, her gift was already working? Or perhaps he was in the place where he always meant to be.
When Azriel opened his eyes, bleary sunlight was already streaming through the windows. From where he lay, he could see the muted pink sunrise, pale light tentatively touching the ground in the vast park of the estate. 
He could get used to it, he thought. The life of a country gentleman: caring for his manor, a bunch of dogs and horses on the grounds, a glass of whiskey at night by the fireplace, his Elain tending to her gardens, being the lady of the house, running charities and organising their social calendar. Yes, he wouldn’t mind that at all. Wouldn’t mind railing her on the daily either. 
Elain’s gorgeous naked body was outlined by the morning light, the lovely curve of her bottom so sumptuous, Azriel had to bite his lip to keep himself from groaning out loud. She stood by the window, her foot tapping softly behind her, her long hair cascading down her back. Azriel was pleased to see that her nipples were still nicely plump and swollen from all the attention that he’d paid them overnight. 
Gently setting Piglet aside Azriel rose swiftly and sat up on the bed, rubbing his face sleepily. He inspected his leg–it looked normal now and therefore, he knew that his little holiday was coming to an end. After the new year, he was going back onto the field. His last checkup was going to be on December 28th. If he was cleared to return to playing, his first game was going to be the first week of January. And it’s not that he didn't want to return to the game–he’d missed it: his team and his boys and the thrill of the game–but he also knew that his time with Elain and Pinky would suffer once he got back on the road. And that made him sad. 
He looked at Elain again, silently observing the sensual heaviness of her breast, the pretty curve of her belly, the softness of her shoulder. With sudden, acute clarity, he also saw her standing in the same spot, but this time, with her stomach round and heavy with his baby. 
Fuuuuuck. He was feeling broody. 
He rubbed his face again, trying to shake off the image. But somehow, it was seared into his brain now. Elain glorious nakedness didn’t help him clear his mind of dreams of impregnating her and watching her get round with his son. 
At last, he stood up and walked soundlessly towards her, startling her when he brashly cupped her warm bare pussy in his hand.
“Az!” she gasped. 
He kissed her neck softly and murmured, “that’s my name, baby. Good morning, my Ellie.”
She melted against him almost immediately, her sweet arse moulding into his cock just like he wanted it. Pink didn’t budge the whole night, and as much as Azriel tried, he couldn’t spoon Elain, because the dog was in the way. Even when Azriel released him a couple of times and tried to turn on his other side, Piglet growled and then crawled over him and planted himself between their bodies. There was no escaping him.
“Our first Christmas morning together,” Azriel whispered, and buried his face in her neck, gently stroking her soft pussy, while he cupped her breast in his palm and teased her nipple lazily.
“Oh…” she breathed blissfully, “this feels so good…”
“I am here to make you feel good, Ellie. That’s going to be my full time job. Fuck football!” 
She laughed and patted his hand, “not yet. I want to have a brawny footballer as a boyfriend for a little while. Before you get all old and become a coach,”
“Old?!” he exclaimed, outraged. “I am going to be 30!”
“Yeah. Old.”
“No respect for your elders,” he shook his head.
“Oh, look, look,” Elain pointed outside, and then bounced on her toes with excitement. 
Azriel looked out, seeing that the garden was covered in fresh snow, just in time for Christmas. Out in the cold, Nesta Archeron was running laps. She was thin, ramrod straight, her hair tied in a severe ponytail. 
“She runs every morning,” Elain sighed, shaking her head. “She never misses a day. Can you imagine?”
Azriel didn’t want to remind her that he also ran every day, and exercised for a few hours too, so he simply said, “she is very dedicated.”
Elain huffed, muttering, “well, I’d rather have a cup of coffee and a croissant.”
Azriel did not doubt that one bit. But he only kissed her shoulder and her neck and caressed her silken breast in his palm. He liked his soft and plush Elain, where he could touch and squeeze her lush body to his heart’s delight, and feel her supple flesh and not a pile of bones. 
“Ohmygod,” Elain gasped. Azriel looked to see what got her so excited and then smirked with amusement. 
There was his brother, in a pair of joggers and a sleeveless hoodie, his long hair tied into a topknot, running behind Nesta. 
Cassian pounded the ground steadily and when Nesta heard him, she turned around and was clearly surprised to see him. He greeted her indifferently, like this was what he did every day. And he did–Azriel knew that Cassian ran too. But he was quite sure that Cassian wasn’t so dedicated that he’d normally run on Christmas morning. No. This was a ruse. Cassian wanted to run with Nesta.
Elain watched the two with rapt attention and then turned swiftly in Azriel’s arms and asked, “do you think he fancies her?”
“Yeah he fancies her,” Azriel confirmed simply and kissed the tip of her nose.
“Are you sure?”
“Pretty sure. Can’t you see?”
“You know, she never dates!” Elain exclaimed in frustration. “Never ever. And…well, I like Cassian,”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yes,” she nodded. “I think he would be good for her. He is warm and funny and good.”
Azriel agreed. And Cassian would be the right person for Nesta too. He could handle her. He liked a challenge, but he was also emotionally intelligent enough to know what a woman like Nesta needed. 
“Alright,” Azriel decided, hauling Elain up in his arms, “let’s go back to bed and make out.”
-
Piglet was overheated.
Which is why he was presently lying on the cool stone tiles of the palace and was being fanned by Feyre and his Elain. They sat next to him with magazines in their hands and were frantically trying to cool him off. 
“You couldn’t have been more careful?” Feyre hissed at her husband accusingly. “And you?!” she snarled at Nesta. 
“Okay, Feyre darling, in my defence,” Rhys said pacifically, “I am not well familiar with a pug’s internal cooling system in a snowball fight,”
Elain couldn’t help but snort a laugh.
Azriel was observing all of this with a disdainful look on his face, as he shook his head.
“This damn pug is more of a diva than Mariah Carey!” he crossed his arms on his broad chest, watching the two girls on their knees, fanning–literally–over the panting dog. “Just in the last 48 hours, he ran into a wall and knocked himself out, then he attempted to poison himself with some flowers, and now he is overheated from a snowball fight. Whatever will the next 48 hours bring…” he pondered.
Dad was being mean of course, but Piglet didn’t even care. Because whatever. He had so much fun during the snowball fight that he’d do it all over again. Hey, yolo and all!
-
So this is what happened:
When Piglet woke up in the morning, it was because dad and his Elain were doing something that looked a lot like wrestling on the bed. They pushed at him, and he woke up, only for the big man–Cass–to burst through the doors the next moment and scream ‘snowball fight!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!’
Then all hell broke loose, because dad yelled at Cassian, who already left the room, for seeing Elain naked, and Piglet didn’t know what all the fuss was about, because he saw his Elain naked all the time and it was no big deal. He escorted her to the loo and to the bathroom pretty much all the time, just to make sure that she was okay and didn’t need his help, or that she didn’t just disappear somewhere. 
Everyone had gathered downstairs soon after. There wasn’t even breakfast! Piglet only got some water and a banana, which he had to eat in a hurry, so he trotted to the gathering holding it in his mouth. 
“Couples can’t be together!” Cassian declared loudly. 
“Why not?” Feyre demanded instantly.
“No. That’s not how it works. You can’t be with Rhys. And I can’t be with Nes,” he continued.
“We aren’t a couple,” Nesta reminded him coolly.
“But I want to be with Azriel,” Elain whined, clutching Azriel’s hand.
“Yeah,” Azriel nodded, “I wouldn’t mind being with Ellie too,”
“Like I said,” Cassian rolled over all the objections, “no couples.”
“So what do you propose we do?” Rhys demanded, tapping his fingers on his bicep impatiently.
Piglet watched the humans negotiate for a good ten minutes, while he chewed his banana and rolled his eyes. They were slow and indecisive and kind of annoying too.
“What about Piglet?” Elain exclaimed at last.
Piglet looked at all of them, challenging them with a wordless yeah, what about Piglet, indeed?
“He doesn’t have thumbs,” Rhys reminded her. “He can’t make snowballs.”
At that, Piglet huffed. 
Cassian rubbed his chin and said, “whoever gets him will have a distraction, for sure. He might come in handy actually,”
At least somebody was talking sense. 
Piglet got onto his hind leg and suggested that maybe Cassian take him on his team. But, naturally, as luck would have it, Piglet ended up on the worst team ever–with Nesta and Rhysand. They picked the short straw which egregiously meant him. 
The final breakdown was Cassian and Elain, Feyre and Azriel, and Nesta and Rhys and Piglet.
And so it began. 
Rhys had the audacity to ask Nesta “does he understand commands?”
“Yeah, when he wants to,” Nesta scoffed. “Usually when there is food involved, he is all ears. If not, then they are for decoration only.”
Piglet was upset that he wasn’t on the team with Cassian, who was hidden behind a tree with Elain, designing an honest to god tactical warfare plan. But it didn’t matter because Piglet was gonna show Rhys that he could be an important addition to the team. And he didn’t do everything for food. Like for example right now. He didn’t even have breakfast, but here he was, rushing across the field, distracting everyone, while Rhys sprung on Azriel and pummelled him with snowballs. 
Piglet crawled between bushes and then destroyed stockpiles of snowballs that Elain had made, incurring Cassian’s wrath as the big man bellowed ‘you wily little bastard!’ 
Elain wailed ‘I can’t believe you did that!’ but Piglet only rolled in the snow, completely obliterating her work, before running away.
As far as he was concerned, all was fair in love and war.
Azriel chased Nesta with snowballs, wiping her out, and while Rhys valiantly attempted to defend her, Feyre rushed across the field and kicked all of his snowballs, flattening them ruthlessly, and then ran back, followed by Rhys’s mournful scream ‘you are my wife!!!’
She shrugged and saluted him, while Cassian sprung on her and dumped heaps of snow on her head. She screamed hysterically, as the snow fell into her coat, and unsuccessfully fought back the attack.
Meanwhile, Azriel sprinted towards Elain, and basically tackled her, landing on top of her in a heap of snow. He managed to half-bury her in the pile, before she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him on the lips. Azriel melted at once, cupping her face in his hands and kissing her back, which allowed Cassian to sneak up on him and toss a bunch of snowballs at Azriel’s head.
“Sorry, petal!” he bellowed, since some of the snowballs landed on Elain as well, but she gave him a thumbs up and laughed wildly.
“I can’t believe you did that!” Azriel fake-gasped, wiping his face.
“You are defeated!” she announced. 
“Never! With Piglet’s help, Nesta and Rhys certainly had the upper hand. Piglet kept pretending to fall, or be struck by snowballs, he howled and rolled around, he also repeatedly rushed various people and successfully took them down, because they lost footing as they didn’t want to step on him. 
As much as Cassian tried to insist that the couples stay apart and not couple, by the end of the fight, Rhys found his way to Feyre, Azriel to Elain, and even Cassian draped his arm over Nesta’s shoulders (and she didn’t shrug him off). 
That’s when Piglet collapsed for real, panting within his red Arsenal jacket.
Feyre saw him in the snow and hurried to pick him up, crying loudly, ‘Piggy don’t die!! He is going to die!’
Elain was much calmer about this and told her distraught sister, ‘He won’t die. He is just hot. But we’ll need to fan him.’
“Oh and by the way, Feyre and I won,” Azriel shrugged innocently.
“I beg to differ!” Cassian argued at once.
“Yeah, according to who?” Nesta snarled at Azriel, her hands on her hips.
“Okay, let’s reassess what has taken place,” Azriel offered calmly and all of them headed back to the manor, arguing loudly about who’d actually won. 
Piglet felt like he’d won. 
-
Piglet was very pleased with his massive haul of Christmas presents. 
He received not one, not two, not three, but FOUR sticks!! Four. Excellent sticks. 
As expected, dad gave the best presents: in addition to one of the sticks, dad also got him a pack of used padded Amazon envelopes, two pairs of socks, a whole bunch of toys, a Chelsea ball and a small plush tree decorated with shiny balls, which were also soft. All for him to destroy. 
The rest of the gifts consisted of bags of treats, chewys, more balls, and piles of outfits. 
Christmas lunch was incredible and he ate ham and roast beef and then came to the conclusion that Christmas was his favourite.
Now, after closely supervising the loading of all the gifts into the car, including all four sticks, Piglet lay in his seat, having been hugged and kissed by everyone about a hundred times. He was heading home and he was hoping that everything would go just as well as it’s been going. 
-
January 6th was a surprisingly sunny day. Warm for this time of year, the apricity of sunshine dispersing the gloominess of the winter chill. The feeling in the air was almost…innocent. Full of expectation and new tidings. A new year indeed.
That didn’t stop Piglet from being put in air jail, and he was being carried by Azriel. On their morning walk today, Piglet tripped Elain by wrapping the lead around her ankles, then, once in the park, he barked and scared a baby, and then ran with some big dogs, chasing them loudly, until they turned around and began chasing them, and he dodged them, but fell off a retaining wall. After that, Azriel picked him up and now carried the pug like a baby. 
Now they were seated at The Ivy Canary Wharf and having brunch. Piglet agreed to be quiet and discreet and in return, Azriel fed him ham under the table and strawberries from the fruit salad. 
“I’ve been thinking,” Elain said slowly, sipping her Rhubarb Bellini. 
“About?” Azriel sliced into his eggs and looked at her.
“Him,” she nodded towards the dog under the table. “His leg. When we went to that vet here,”
“Yeah, I remember,” Azriel nodded.
When Piglet fake-poisoned himself on Elain’s birthday, the vet that they took him to worked in a fancy private practice. It cost Azriel 1,300 quid to get Pinky to take a laxative, but the vet told them about a new experimental treatment for dogs with missing legs. It was a robotic leg, which would sense his movements and respond accordingly, effectively working just as well as a real leg.
“So what about it?” Azriel pressed.
She didn’t answer right away, and the pause felt somehow important, pivotal. He wondered if Elain was going to ask him for input and they’d make a decision together.
Truly, it should’ve been a family decision.
He and Pinky were tight. They were besties. 
“It would be good for his joints,” Azriel told her. “Right now, his hips and shoulders are stressed because of the extra pressure that he places on them. Since you’ve been pumping him full of longevity shots, he might be living for 20 years for all we know, and you don’t want him to struggle with his joints.”
Azriel spoke from experience. He’s been running for 20 years. 
Elain pouted and muttered, “I am not pumping him full of longevity shots…”
He chuckled. 
“It’s expensive,” he added quietly. 
“I can pay,” she said quickly. “It would be worth it.”
He shrugged and offered an ambivalent nod. 
At that moment, Elain’s phone pinged with an incoming message.
It wasn’t her regular phone, but her work one, and while they typically didn’t use their phones at the table, she smiled at him apologetically and he nodded. 
Who had a matchmaking emergency on a Saturday morning?
Azriel didn’t really give a shit. His mood soured and he was playing with his eggs listlessly, internally annoyed. What did he need to do to fucking make her understand that they were a pair? A couple? What did he need to do to make her yield? It was exhausting and he was irritated and angry and dark thoughts swirled in his mind. What would it take for her to consider him her man? Her partner? Did he need to force sex on her? Steal her away? Lock her in the cage?
“...I’ll see what I can do, Gwyn,” Elain said into the phone.
Azriel had been so absorbed in his unhappy thoughts that he didn’t even notice Elain speaking to this Gwyn.
“No…I understand. I think it will be a bit of a challenge on such short notice, but I will definitely try,” Elain promised, grimacing. 
Piglet looked up at Azriel from under the table, tilting his big round head back and forth, assessing Azriel’s mood and feeling that it had changed. Azriel stroked the floppy black ears and smiled at the dog. Pinky was the only one who understood him. Pinky was the one other being obsessed with Elain besides Azriel, but Elain was also devoted to the dog, and wasn’t devoted to Azriel quite as much.
She put the phone down, her brows knitted. 
“What’s going on?” he queried, taking a sip of his coffee.
Elain waved her hand and replied, “oh nothing. Just a client, in a bit of a bind,”
“What kind of bind can you be in as a matchmaker’s client? That you need to ring on a Saturday morning?”  Azriel was actually genuinely curious because it sounded so ridiculous.
Elain leaned back in her chair and explained, “she is a client and I’ve been having the hardest time matching her with anyone,”
“Why? She ugly? A psycho?”
“My god. Not everyone is an ugly psycho, you know!” she seethed.
“I feel like most people who use a matchmaker probably are,” he noted callously, still annoyed about the robotic leg situation. 
 “Are you an ugly psycho?” she snapped.
He shrugged and looked at his mangled hands, considering for a bit, before saying, “not ugly. But definitely a psycho.”
“Anyway,” Elain grunted.
“Tell me. I want to understand this matchmaking emergency! Indulge me,” he beckoned, smirking.
Elain scoffed at him and his attitude, but nevertheless, began explaining,
“She is a lovely person, really. Very smart,”
“Sorry baby, but this is not a selling point,” he huffed an amused laugh. “You come at a bloke with a ‘I’d like to match you with a very smart woman’ and he immediately starts wondering just how smart she is and would he measure up?”
“So what you are telling me is that you are intimidated by smart women?” she crossed her arms on her chest and glowered at him. “Only airheads for you?”
He drank his coffee lazily, enjoying her anger and then said, “Nah, baby. I ain’t intimidated by nothing. Bring on all the smarts. See, you ain’t an airhead and I am dating you. So I think that I am all good. What about this lass though? What does she do?”
“She is pursuing her PhD in Classics and Philosophy at Cambridge,”
“Jesus,” he breathed. “No wonder you can’t set her up. She sounds like a bundle of laughs.”
“You are so judgy!” she gasped.
“You have no idea,” he confirmed, smiling widely. “And yet it doesn’t stop me from being with you–the Queen of Pearls and Cardigans.”
Elain rolled her eyes and muttered, “I hardly ever wear cardigans! And my pearls are heirlooms, are worth a ton of money and will be passed on to my daughters,” she told him in a firm and decisive tone.
Azriel shrugged and said, “That's fine by me, as long as I get to make these daughters with you, you may give them all the pearls.”
“No comment.”
“So no one wants to hook up with the Cambridge scholar then?”
Elain sighed deeply and gulped on her drink, “she is very picky! And not even so much about the men…but how they’d fit into her life. She isn’t moving from the university and she is very determined to finish her degree–which I absolutely understand. But that makes everything very challenging, because there aren’t many men who want to give up their own lives and careers to be with a woman. Because she’d definitely end up in academia for the rest of her life with a degree like that. So, it would have to be someone who is so completely independent that he wouldn’t care. Or another Cambridge scholar.”
“You are running short on those?”
“I know you are joking,” she was shaking her head in defeat, “but it’s very difficult. She’d need a man like you: someone whose career isn’t stationary and who wouldn’t depend on her.”
“Running short of available footballers too?” he teased. “But what does she need from you right now?” he insisted, making a show of the bustling Ivy on a Saturday morning. 
“She has an event that she needs to attend. She is a keynote speaker. It’s a formal gala,”
“Let me guess, she needs a man by her side? To show she isn’t a lonesome singleton?” he laughed.
“Basically. Yes,” Elain confirmed.
“So I guessed correctly.”
“And how the heck am I supposed to find that?” 
She sighed dramatically and added, “I am almost ready to give up on her and tell her that I am unable to find her a match…It would be my first,”
“I’ll go,” Azriel said suddenly.
She started and looked at him wide eyed, “What do you mean?”
He shrugged and repeated, “I’ll go. I’ll go to the gala with your boring scholar. I’ll wear the tux and I’ll escort her around and shit…”
“But,” Elain began, sounding uncertain. Azriel was pretty blase about his proposal.
“What? What’s the big deal? Besides, don’t I owe you one last fake date or whatever?”
“They weren’t fake dates!” she protested.
“Nuala was okay,” he allowed. Then shuddered demonstratively and murmured, “Mor, not so much.”
Elain thought about his offer. She wasn’t crazy about it–he was her boyfriend, after all. Or was he still a client? Or both? Gah! This was so frustrating. Even thinking about Azriel escorting another woman, even one as romantically clueless as Gwyn, made Elain uncomfortable and genuinely jealous. It was crazy, of course. Azriel was totally devoted to her, and absolutely paid no attention to any other women. Even right now, in the restaurant, some very pretty women walked by and while other men gave them a once over, Azriel only had eyes for Elain and for Piglet, who was now sleeping on his shoe. 
“Jealous, beautiful?” he snickered.
“No! I am not!” she argued defensively.
“Think about it. I am your failed case, so is she. Your two failures, fake-dating for one evening. Face it, it’s kind of poetic.”
“You're not my failure,” Elain glared at him, but her tone was soft and loving. 
“No?”
“You are…you are actually my,” she swallowed hard. 
He was watching her closely, waiting.
“My win,” she concluded. “My reward.”
-
Gwyneth Berdara.
27 years old. PhD candidate in Classics and Philosophy at Cambridge University. Part-time lecturer at Cambridge, otherwise previously unemployed. Moved to London from Inverness, Scotland to attend university. 
Attended a Catholic preparatory school. Initially intended to become a nun.
No previous relationships.
Hobbies: yoga, meditation, pilates, travelling, reading
Azriel read the profile while sitting in Elain’s office. He exhaled a long breath, internally cringing. A nun? A fucking nun?
Supposedly Elain wasn’t a virgin–he was yet to check on that–but this one…yeah, this one definitely was. Not that he cared, but it made him wonder how he was getting set up, even for one evening, with such odd specimens.  
Frankly, this girl needed someone like Elain. Because otherwise, how was she ever going to find a boyfriend? What would be the opening line? ‘Hello, my name is Gwyn and I wanted to be married to Jesus!”
Anyways, he wasn’t here to judge. He was just getting instructions. 
Elain was plenty jumpy as it is, so he wasn’t going to aggravate the situation. 
As it turned out, Gwyn was a keynote speaker, she was also receiving some scholarly award (Azriel didn’t care, so he didn’t ask for any details). The gala was being held at the Museum of Natural History, the dinner was cooked by some of Britain's best chefs and it promised to be quite the event. There would be dancing, a silent auction and all the proceeds were going to go to some animal sanctuary. Azriel hoped that it was going to go to some pug sanctuary.
Elain had informed him that there weren’t many pug sanctuaries out there, which, Azriel, felt was an omission.
Azriel kept most of his comments to a minimum. He knew that it was ridiculous, but somehow, this whole proposal now sounded a bit like cheating. And he regretted having come up with the idea. It was stupid, and he shouldn't have done it, but now, it was too late to back out.
“Okay, you will pick her up at 4:30 pm on Saturday. She needs to be onsite earlier than the rest of the attendees,” Elain was explaining, “because she has to prepare. Cocktails are at 6 pm, and then dinner is at 7 pm.”
He nodded.
“You know you are my girl, right?” he asked suddenly, and when Elain glanced from her tablet at him, his expression was almost…desperate. Pleading. 
She smiled softly at him and nodded,
“I know.”
“I probably shouldn’t be doing this,” he muttered.
“It’s okay. I am not jealous,” she assured him. “I trust you.”
-
But maybe Elain shouldn’t have? Trusted him, that is.
-
The next time she spoke with Gwyn Berdara was on Sunday morning following the gala.
‘How did it go?” she inquired, once Gwyn picked up the phone.
“Elain, it was wonderful!” Gwyn chirped excitedly. “I had a brilliant time! Thank you for setting me up with Azriel. He was–is–incredible!”
Umm
Setting her up?
Did she not understand that this was a one-evening only sort of a deal? Elain thought that she’d been clear about this arrangement. One gala. One evening. That’s all.
“I mean, I am not a footie fan,” Gwyn continued saying, “but even I’ve heard of Azriel Night! And honestly when you told me that it would be him, I was unsure. But he was…’ she seemed to be lost for words. “Well, he is lovely, isn’t he? Great manners. Excellent dancer!”
Yes, Elain didn’t argue, he was all of those things, but didn’t Gwyn understand that it was an act? Azriel was rough around the edges, with a potty mouth, a dry, taunting, sarcastic sense of humour, full of abrasive comments and inappropriate innuendo. That’s how Azriel was. He wasn’t some dark gallant knight. Yes, his manners were fine, and he could hold his own in any company, and he knew how to dress smartly and hold a conversation, but Elain knew the ‘real’ Azriel. And she loved the real Azriel. 
“Gwyn, I…” she began saying, but Gwyn interrupted her.
“Thank you, Elain. I didn’t think it was going to happen, and that you’d be able to find someone for me, but you truly are a miracle worker!”
“Gwyn, are you sure that Mr. Night is…interested?” Elain didn’t know how to ask her politely. She didn’t add ‘in you’. 
“Well, yes! I know we initially thought that he’d just be there for the gala, but I want to see where it will go. I don’t know yet, it’s so new, but,”
“I don’t think he is available!” Elain blurted out, feeling confused and anxious. 
“Oh, I know. Not now,” Gwyn laughed. “He is playing today! I am going to watch the game–for the first time,”
She didn’t even like football! 
Piglet trotted into the room, wearing his Arsenal shirt. He was ready for the game too.
“Well, thanks again,” Gwyn said, “I’ll keep you posted on how things go.”
As soon as she hung up, Elain frantically texted ‘ring me!’ and then she added more ‘!!!!!!!’
She knew that Azriel was prepping for the game right now and wouldn’t be available right away, but he’d ring right before, so she could wish him a good game. And she always sent him a photo of Piglet in his kit.
Only this time, Azriel did not call back.
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fauxdette · 2 months
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Belong to You - Elain x Azriel [2]
Part 1 • Part 2 🔥
Summary: Azriel tells (shows 👀) Elain how royally f*cked he’d be if they were mates.
Word count: 600
Warnings: Smut [18+]🔥
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Nothing had changed in his stance or his stare but the weight of Azriel’s words— (she knew she’d never forget them; not in the next decade or century or however long this fae body allowed her to live)— they seemed to charge the air around them.
She dared to move closer, angling herself so they were face to face instead of arm to arm. Azriel continued to watch her closely but did not move as she stretched onto the tips of her toes and grazed his cheek with a kiss. That electric feeling between them flared, even as she slowly lowered herself back down.
“Thank you, Az.”
Azriel blinked. Once. Twice. And then his arm was snaking around her waist, pressing her into him as he dipped his head and kissed her deeply.
It was as sudden as it was tender; a kiss that set every nerve on fire. Delicate and passionate. Light and dark. Elain felt it all as her mouth moved against his.
It may have been seconds or hours before they broke apart, Azriel’s forehead rested against her own, his breathing fast and shallow. One hand cupped her face as he ran his thumb across her bottom lip. She savoured the exploration; his palm sliding down the column of her neck.
“I don’t know what to do,” he breathed.
“Kiss me.”
So he did. He kissed her and tucked her into himself, lying them on the grass. Wings and shadows wrapped around and she knew his powers were shielding them from sight and sound.
Good, she thought, as she set her knees on either side of his body and leaned into him. The skirt of her dress had hitched up her thighs and Azriel’s hands found rest there; running lazily up and down the bare skin. Her cotton underwear was the only thing separating his leathers from her sex and Elain became increasingly aware of the flimsy barrier; especially as every kiss and drag of his fingertips made her more wet; urge pooling at her core.
Each ridge of Azriel’s armour was rough against her softness and it felt so dangerous, so delicious, that she didn’t know how much longer she could take without him touching her there.
“What do you want?” he asked, as if sensing her restlessness.
“I want you.”
His hand inched further up her thighs.
“Where do you want me?”
“Inside,” her voice was all breath and desperation and she didn’t care as he traced the edge of her underwear.
“Here?”
“Yes. Please.”
He slid his fingers down her centre, “Gods you’re wet. “
“Az, please,” she ground her hips down and he smiled; a brilliant, hungry flash of teeth just for her.
“Beautiful,” he whispered, sliding his hand under the waistband and curling a finger into her. Elain moaned just as a second finger stroked upwards against her clit.
“You sound better than I ever imagined,” he confessed but his words were lost to sound of her pleasure, each stroke drawing out more.
Release was building quickly as she rode his hand, moving with him. Not once did he look away— watching and responding. Each jerk of her hips or flutter of her eyelids had him adjusting his position or pace. It was pure artistry.
“Az-“ it was no more than a whimper and he knew she was close.
“Come for me.”
And she did; the climax splintering in every direction. It was deep earth and cool sky, rising from the very depth of herself and floating above them.
Azriel caught her mouth in his own again.
“Yeah,” he sighed, pulling back. “If we were mates I wouldn’t stand a chance.”
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rahjasmine · 6 months
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A Portrait Of Her
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Summary: Azriel drops by Feyre’s studio at her behest. Little does he know Elain is there posing for a live portrait class.
Word Count: 4,292
Ratings/warnings: Elriel. Mature/18+
Read full fic here on AO3. Or see a snippet below the break.
A breeze rolled off the Sidra. Weaving into Elain’s hair and brushing it over her bare shoulders like the touch of a lover. She shivered, and Azriel bit his lip so hard he tasted blood. He longed to replace the wind that curled around her. Longed to be the only one to call her velvet soft skin his. He was jealous of the very air around her.
She shivered again, and he was knocked from his growing frustration at the realization that she was cold. The leaves had begun to brown and fall from the forest surrounding the city. Winter was once again seeping down from the highest, frozen peaks.
He didn’t think. Didn’t question if he should as he extended a wing around behind her to shield her from the wind. Careful not to touch her, going slow enough that she had every opportunity to tell him to fuck off.
She didn’t.
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pinkrasberryfish · 2 months
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A new Chapter of A Court of Blood & Mercy now available! Chapter 27 - "The Lady of the House" 👑🌹🔪🕯
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nightcourtseer · 3 months
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“Wrap Me in Your Skin and Bones”
Warnings: NSFW
Summary: The true mating bond is revealed between Elain and Azriel, and the frenzy ensues.
Read on A03
Need coursed just under the surface of his skin like an electrical current.
There was no relief in sight, though it had been a week since they had sequestered themselves in the townhouse once the mating bond had finally, blissfully snapped.
“Still going?” Rhys’ dark talons had scraped at the dark entrance to his mind the day before, a cautious teasing from the High Lord who had barely had time to beg for their forgiveness when it was discovered that there had indeed been a Mother-blessed bond all along, buried under the surface of the corrupted spell linking the son of Day and Autumn with Elain.
Azriel’s mental voice had snarled back at Rhys before slamming the doors to his mind shut. A faint laugh could be heard from the other side before Azriel had redirected his attention to the female curled into his side, looking up at him questioningly.
He had reassured her with a gentle kiss to her forehead before they both fell back into a brief sleep, temporarily having sated the newly-revealed bond.
It wasn’t long before he was awoken by a slender hand tracing the whirls tattooed on his chest, moonlight setting her bare skin aglow and Azriel had been unable to resist the look in her eyes - the raw need that passed back and forth between them as they struggled to understand how they could possibly go on living outside the four walls of her old room in the townhouse.
The moon was still high in the sky when he awoke again, the space in bed next to him cold, the covers pushed back. Exhaustion was a heavy thing weighing on him, even as her absence made him ache, renewed need thrumming through his muscles, pushing him to find, protect, love, fill.
A solid bridge was an open passageway between their wayward souls, and Azriel must have unknowingly sent a call across its expanse as before he could fully sit up, pushing his weary muscles to move, Elain stood in the doorway.
She wore only one piece of clothing, haphazardly buttoned halfway down - a forgotten white dress shirt that he must have left in the dresser of the house at some Solstice or another. The large sleeves were rolled up to her elbows, so as not to fall down into the plate of sweet rolls she held in her hands. Golden brown curls were pulled back from her face in a halfhearted braid, even as the humidity of summer in Velaris curled a few stray pieces around her forehead and flushed cheeks.
Dark circles lined her eyes like shadowed moons, and although part of Azriel ached to see them, he knew that his own were no different. They had trouble sleeping after all, or eating, when the bond was so fresh, so insatiable. Only mumbled, drowsy words or the growl of a stomach pushed them to stop, to reluctantly pull apart to grab something from the kitchen or sink under the covers for an attempt at sleep.
She let out a quick breath when she saw him sitting there, eyes dark with exhaustion and hunger and need. Primal in every sense of the word, as they relished in what they had willed between them for so long.
“You need to eat,” Elain chided softly, as she approached the bed. Bare feet near silent on the wooden floor.
“The only thing I need is you.” His voice was thick and low, still coated with sleep.
She replied only with a soft, indulgent smile as she climbed carefully onto the bed next to him, the shirt pulling up onto her upper thighs as she balanced the plate in her hands.
It wasn’t close enough.
He grabbed her hips, slowly moving her to settle over top of him, to where she no doubt felt the physical embodiment of his longing for her hardening between them.
“Eat, Azriel,” Elain encouraged, lifting a roll to his lips.
Scarred hands tightened in the fabric of his old shirt at the words. The words, the action, so reminiscent of their first few moments at the house once that bond had been unveiled.
Only to appease her did he lean forward, opening his lips to close around the roll, and then around her fingers. He sucked gently as he pulled away, tongue tracing the pad of her skin.
A quick inhale of breath sent her chest rising and quickly falling under the cotton fabric of the shirt.
“You’re exhausted, Azriel. You need to sleep.”
“Hmm…” he mumbled, his voice betraying his fatigue as he leaned closer to her still.
Everything he had ever wanted, had ever needed so close he could almost…
He let his tongue indulgently trace up the elegant column of her neck. Taste of the sweet pastry and her own addictive scent of jasmine and honey sending a fresh shock through his system.
How Cassian and Rhys had emerged from their mating frenzies within a few days, he would never understand. Maybe it was the fact that he and Elain had tried to repress their own for so long. Maybe the years of raw need had been buried so deep only to grow to an insurmountable level, unable to be contained by earthly skin and bones.
All he knew was that it had been a week, and their desire showed no sign of tempering.
“I need you,” he whispered. Though he had no strength left, a strange soreness he was unused to feeling settling within him as he gave all that he had to her - against the kitchen counter, pressed up to the closed door, underneath the tree in the garden, dappled evening light filtering through the leaves as he pressed into her again and again and again…
All-seeing brown eyes scanned his own. A gentle hand reached for him across the bridge of their souls - an offering to him, to help him settle the ache that threatened to pull his flesh apart.
He took that hand, near shivering at the rightness, at the wholeness that he felt as she took the lead.
The plate of sweet rolls was abandoned on the nightstand next to them as a gentle hand pressed to his chest, instructing him to once again settle onto the pillow underneath him.
Then swift, graceful hands were moving down the buttons of her shirt, his hazel eyes devouring each inch of skin that she revealed to him even though he had worshipped all of it, every single bit, once, twice, three times over.
Once she bared herself to him, the shirt barely hanging onto her shoulders, she pulled the sheet back from where it still lay between them.
Azriel’s back arched as she ground just once against him, bare need meeting bare need as they both sighed in relief at the feeling.
His chin tilted up as his hands tightened around her plush hips when she did it again, and he went to flip them over when Elain shook her head above him, leaning forward so that her chest just barely brushed his.
“Let me,” she murmured against his lips, pressing a sweet kiss to them as he let his heavy eyelids close, relishing in the feeling of her surrounding him in every way as she sunk down on him.
Her body felt like home.
Azriel let her peace wash over him, her movements a moor in a heavy tide as his soul settled, safe when watched over by hers.
It started off slow and sweet as she moved on top of him, skin to skin. That was, until she moved a hand to wrap around his neck, her touch gentle but firm as she titled his head back to press warm kisses along his jaw, up to his ear.
He could feel she was as close as he was, her other hand desperately clutching at his where their fingers interlaced next to his head.
“Let go, my love.”
Her soft voice was a beacon in his darkness, leading him home, to pleasure, to light.
To a place where his weary soul could finally rest.
“Give me everything,” Elain whispered encouragingly in the dark as she pressed closer still to him. “I can take it.”
He knew that she could. Knew that she already had taken all of him - his joy, his pain, his need, his loneliness, his longing.
This release was slower than the rest as they came together, Elain letting out a quiet cry as he moaned, pressing his lips into her curls. Their chests rose and fell in tandem, a push and pull like the tide as they caught their breaths. Azriel’s eyes remained closed as he pressed slow kisses to her forehead, wincing slightly as she pulled out of him. The loss a more manageable ache than it had been minutes before. The bond once more sated for a time, so that they could pause.
Her fingertips whispered over his eyelashes, the few freckles along his temples.
Darkness swept over him, sleep a sweet calling even as he struggled against it.
“Rest,” Elain commanded him, her honeyed voice just beyond the edge of his shadowed mind. “Let’s rest now, Azriel.”
He felt her lay down against his chest, and he pulled her closer with a hand underneath the shirt still covering her back. The small of her back was warm beneath his touch.
Sleep finally a welcome thing with her in his arms.
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duskandcobalt · 7 months
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Echoes in the Hallway
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Elain didn’t know why it bothered her so much. Yes, she’d been prepared for a cozy night in with her nephew - just the two of them - but an additional presence in the house wasn’t usually something that would set her off like this.
Typically, she’d welcome having someone else around. She knew she wouldn’t be feeling like this if it was Cassian or Mor that had stayed back with her.
But Azriel…
….
18+ pls
Azriel finds himself playing chaperone again, this time for the girl he’s been avoiding for months…. What could possibly go wrong?
This is like 7.7k words of shameless angst and smut????? enjoy!!
Read on AO3
“Azriel.” Rhys’ voice broke through Azriel’s concentration. Their eyes met as the Shadowsinger looked up from the reports he’d been diligently reading for god knows how long, reclined on a couch in Rhys’ office after their morning debrief with Cassian.
Azriel raised his eyebrows at his brother, already wary of the conversation they were about to have based solely on the seriousness in which Rhys had addressed him.
Rhysand leaned against the corner of his desk. “We’re all going to the Court of Nightmares tomorrow…”
Azriel nodded, shuffling his papers together and setting them to the side so he could sit up straight.
“I know you were supposed to come but something’s come up and I’ll need you to stay here.” Rhys continued.
“Why?” Suspicion laced Azriel’s voice.
“The twins aren’t available and Elain…” Rhys paused, carefully watching his brother’s reaction.
Azriel tensed at the name, frustration immediately building under his skin. He hadn’t let himself even think about that name for almost nine months now.
Solstice felt like a fever dream - a night that had gone so wrong, so quickly that he deigned it easier to just try to forget any of it had even happened. Even if he’d quickly realised that was easier said than done.
“Elain is staying back to watch Nyx.” Rhys finished. He was still studying Azriel, waiting for a reaction that wasn’t coming. Anger flowed through Azriel but he pushed it down, wouldn’t let that icy exterior that he’d spent so long perfecting crack.
It had been Rhys after all that had put an end to everything before anything had even had a chance to begin.
“And you want me to stand guard?” Azriel inquired, quiet and steady, no sign of that underlying anger as he spoke.
“No.” Rhys sighed. “But we need Nesta to come with us and Cassian refuses to let her out of his sight after everything happened with the Blood Rite. Feyre’s already stressed about leaving Nyx for the night, with everything that’s happening. Elain and Nyx, leaving them for the first time… she insisted you be the one to stay back.”
“Why me? You told me…”
“I know what I said, Az.” Rhys cut him off. “And please don’t get any ideas. I stand by what I said.”
“So then why me? Why not someone else?”
“Because Feyre trusts you, Az.” He took a deep breath before continuing. “We both trust you.” ‘
“Do you?” Azriel scoffed. It was the first obvious display of emotion he’d let Rhysand see during this conversation.
They’d both be lying if they said things hadn’t been a little tense between them since that night where Rhysand had exercised his power, his ranking, in a way he hardly ever did. And for him to use that ranking to call Azriel off for a matter of the heart… Azriel had struggled to move past the decision even if he had done his best to obey.
“You are my spymaster, Azriel.” Rhys leaned back into his chair but his eyes stayed fixed on Azriel. “ You are my spymaster and my brother, of course I trust you.”
Azriel said nothing, only dipped his chin in acknowledgement of the clear sincerity in Rhysand’s tone.
“Don’t do anything to undermine my trust, Az. Just be here tomorrow night and keep an eye on things. There is to be nothing more. Is that understood?”
“I’ve stayed away, haven’t I?” Azriel stood, gathering his things before rolling his shoulders back and allowing his wings to flare behind him. A slight show of power to let his brother, his High Lord, know exactly how he felt about the situation.
“Is that understood, Azriel?” Rhys ignored the display, repeating his words with that same sense of command that he'd used on Solstice.
“Yes.” Azriel replied, words sharp as he swiftly exited the office and made his way out of the house.
“I just don’t understand why I need a chaperone when I am the chaperone.” Elain grumbled, avoiding even looking in Azriel’s direction.
They were in the kitchen, Nyx balanced on her hip as she bustled around getting a bottle ready for his first feed of the night. Azriel was standing across the kitchen from her, one scarred hand braced on the counter as he flipped through a thick stack of paper with the other. Also avoiding looking at her.
More reports. His distraction for the night.
The rest of the household had just left for the Hewn City mere minutes ago. Rhys and Feyre had chosen to only inform Elain that Azriel would be accompanying her and Nyx right before they winnowed away.
“It’s a safety precaution, with everything going on…” Azriel replied, his voice barely above a whisper. His hazel eyes stayed focused on his papers.
“Ridiculous. This house is protected within an inch of its life.” Elain threw back, her words cutting.. She saw him tense out of the corner of her eye, clearly unused to hearing this tone of voice from her.
Good.
Elain didn’t know why it bothered her so much. Yes, she’d been prepared for a cozy night in with her nephew - just the two of them - but an additional presence in the house wasn’t usually something that would set her off like this.
Typically, she’d welcome having someone else around. She knew she wouldn’t be feeling like this if it was Cassian or Mor that had stayed back with her.
But Azriel…
She couldn’t even justify being upset at Rhys and Feyre for not telling her sooner. Why would they have thought to warn her? How could they possibly know that spending even a moment alone with the Shadowsinger wasn’t exactly high on her list of enjoyable activities these days?
Having him in her space after all these months apart had completely thrown her off, had her fumbling as she tried to put together a simple bottle. She cursed under her breath as she attempted to screw the top on for the third time. Nyx was entirely unhelpful as his little hands tugged at her hair, pulling curls loose from her braid and further distracting her from the task at hand.
“Need some help?” His low voice was closer than anticipated. She hadn’t noticed him come up behind her.
Alway so damn quiet - something that she’d found endearing once upon a time.
“I’m fine.” She bit back, silently willing her hands to stop shaking as she tried yet again to get the lid on the bottle.
“Elain.” Azriel sighed. Gods, she’d forgotten what her name sounded like on his lips. The effect it had on her body. “I know you don’t want me here. At least let me make myself useful.”
She set the lid down on the counter and turned to face him, making eye contact with him for the first time that night. For the first time since Solstice, really.
It’s hard to make eye contact with someone that seemed to do everything in their power to avoid her.
She could see the exhaustion in his hazel eyes but his face was as beautiful as always. The summer months had leant him a healthy glow, his already tan skin a couple shades deeper, a few freckles dotting the bridge of his nose. His dark hair was just a little longer than she remembered and a slight curl had developed along with the length.
How she had once ached to run her hands through his hair.
Anger flooded her veins again, a fresh wave, this time at herself for even allowing herself to think of him like she used to do.
He was infuriatingly expressionless as he watched her, patiently waiting for her to say something.
“I’ll take him to the great room. Bring the bottle and a cloth.” She relented, shifting Nyx in her arms as she quickly stepped around Azriel. His wings retracted to let her through.
Azriel took his time putting the lid on the bottle and grabbing a cloth in order to give Elain a little space.
He felt terrible about this - about having to be in this house, a looming presence that she very clearly didn’t have any desire to be around.
He didn’t know what else he had expected from tonight. He certainly didn’t think things would be like they used to be, back when she’d welcome him into the house with a shy smile, when they’d spend hours quietly talking to each other in the garden. He hadn’t even expected for them to exchange more than a few words.
He just hadn’t been prepared for the anger that radiated off of her.
It was so unlike her, so different from the girl he’d come to know. Of course, he knew that Elain wasn’t as quiet or demure as everyone seemed to think. She was kind, yes. Soft spoken compared to her sisters, yes. But she was also intelligent and sharp and funny in a way that often caught him off guard.
He’d seen her upset in the past, seen her frustrated, but he couldn’t remember ever seeing her like this. So angry that the same raging fire which had once been a constant presence in Nesta’s eyes now infiltrated Elain’s.
He took a deep breath in, picking up the bottle and taking a cloth from the cupboard, steeling himself to face Elain again.
Multiple centuries of life - all those terrifying people and places he’d dealt with in his line of work - and somehow he still felt wholly unprepared and nervous to interact with Elain Archeron.
Azriel found her in the great room, as promised, sitting in a large navy velvet armchair. Her feet were tucked under her, her skirts a never ending cloud of soft pink fabric around her. Nyx was cradled in Elain’s arms, the fire in her eyes nowhere to be seen, her features soft as she babbled back to the babe happily babbling to her. The last bit of light from the setting sun streamed in from the glass doors that led out to the river, illuminating them from behind and Azriel’s breath caught - she looked ethereal.
Elain saw him then and watched as Azriel approached her, flames immediately igniting again as she met his gaze. He held out the bottle and she reached for it, careful to avoid touching his hands in the process. She looked away finally, adjusting Nyx against her chest and watching as he latched on to the bottle.
Azriel found himself fighting back the emotions that came to the surface at the sight before him. Of Elain with a winged babe in her arms, humming softly as she fed him. It was a glimpse into what might’ve been. In another life. Another universe. What he might’ve had if the cauldron had only deemed him worthy.
He tried to push the thoughts down, attempted to let them frost over in the depths of his soul as he shook out the cloth in his hands, doubling it over once before tentatively stepping forward and leaning down to drape it neatly over her shoulder - matching what he’d seen Rhys do for Feyre time and time again. He didn’t miss the way Elain stiffened, the way her breath hitched until he was standing upright again. He hadn’t let his hands so much as graze her skin, as much as he might’ve wanted to.
“I’ll be in the kitchen.” He mumbled, one hand coming up to run through his hair, turning on his heel and heading out of the room before she even had a chance to reply.
He couldn’t take it.
There was a reason he’d stayed away all these months and he was quickly remembering just why he’d taken to hiding himself away at the House of Wind with Nesta and Cassian. It was too much - being near her, being surrounded by her scent. Not being able to talk to her, not being able to touch her. Seeing her with Nyx. This unspoken tension between them. It was all too much.
He thought that the months apart would’ve helped, that the pull he felt towards her would’ve lessened with time. He hadn’t realised how wrong he’d been - hadn’t realised just how much he still yearned for her.
Azriel took a seat at the dining table, hands dragging over his face once as he attempted to focus on his reports. It was utterly useless, all he could think about was the female down the hall from him.
He had no idea how he’d make it through the night when the pain of this longing was eating him alive.
Nyx’s wailing had been echoing through the house for a couple hours now, so loud that Elain was concerned that the windows would shatter regardless of the countless wards Rhys had placed on them.
The poor babe had refused to settle, only sleeping for a few hours before he awoke just after midnight - tears streaming down his sweet face even after Elain had rushed down the hall to him, picking him up and cradling him to her chest.
She had tried everything - changing him, feeding him, singing to him as she sat in a rocking chair. She was at her wits end, bouncing him anxiously in her arms as she paced the nursery, only the moonlight streaming in from the balcony window providing her with just enough light to watch Nyx as he all but screamed in her arms.
She’d done her best to ignore the shadows at the foot of his crib. They’d been there all night, silently laying on the floor where they typically monitored Nyx whenever Azriel was in the house. She glanced at them now and saw that they were gathered together, a cloud of darkness that seemed to keenly watch her, just waiting to be acknowledged. Elain had a feeling they’d been instructed to mind their business and let her handle things tonight but she could tell that they had a different opinion on the subject.
“Go get him, then.” She rolled her eyes, frustrated enough to give in to what she knew they were itching to do. If she wasn’t so overwhelmed she might’ve laughed at the speed at which they vanished, off to find their master.
Azriel appeared seconds later, stepping through his shadows, fully alert with Truthteller clutched in one hand. His hair was a mess, dark circles beginning to form under his eyes. He was still dressed in his leathers so he clearly hadn’t made it to bed yet.
“What’s wrong?” He asked, eyes scanning the nursery - the empty crib, the corners of the room, the balcony, before settling on her.
She saw him relax slightly once he realised that Nyx was indeed safe but then his eyes were taking her in - ever so slowly grazing over her - head to toe. She couldn’t help the heat that spread through her at his gaze. His eyes burned into her skin as he took in her unbound hair, the thin silk of the nightgown she wore, her feet bare on the plush rug. She was too exasperated to care that he was seeing her in this state of undress.
“I… I don’t know.” Elain rasped, her throat scratchy from being abruptly pulled out of her slumber. “He just won’t stop crying. I’ve tried everything, I don’t know what to do.”
“May I?” Azriel stepped towards her, holding out his arms.
Elain paused for a second, looking up at him before gently maneuvering Nyx into his uncle’s outstretched arms.
Azriel took him, those beautiful scarred hands cradling the still screaming babe and bringing him up to rest against his leather clad chest.
She had watched Nyx fill out over these past few months and had often felt that he was growing too quickly for her liking. But now, seeing Azriel with him… Elain couldn’t believe just how small Nyx looked in the arms of the Illyrian warrior. How tiny his body was in those large hands, how fragile he seemed against that broad chest.
Azriel’s hand rubbed smooth circles over Nyx’s back - in between the tiny wings that were beginning to strengthen.
Just five or ten minutes later, Nyx’s wails finally began to die down, his cries fading into small whimpers as he nuzzled further into Azriel’s chest - one tiny fist clutching at his leathers.
“Go to bed, Elain. I’ll stay with him until he sleeps.” Azriel glanced up from where he’d been walking back and forth in front of the window. Elain peered up at him from the rocking chair that she’d fallen into once Azriel had taken over - fighting the exhaustion that threatened to send her to sleep in favour of watching in quiet awe as Azriel managed to calm Nyx down.
“How did you…?” She started.
“I think it’s the wings.” He shrugged. “They can be quite uncomfortable when they’re growing. Mine were so itchy when they were healing after Hybern. I’d imagine it’s even worse for a babe.”
“I didn’t know.” Elain remarked. “I had no idea how to help him.”
“How could you know? It isn’t your fault.” Azriel said softly, fingers still gently rubbing over Nyx’s back. “The leathers probably help too, feels familiar to Rhys.”
“If I’d been here alone…” Tears were gathering in her eyes, the exhaustion of the past few hours hitting her.
“You’d have figured it out.” Azriel cut her off, crossing the room towards her. “Please sleep, Elain. You’ve been with him all evening. I’ve got this.”
He adjusted his grip on Nyx, holding him firm to his chest with one large hand so he could extend his other hand out towards her.
She sighed, her eyes focused on his outstretched hand before she gave in and took it - doing her best to ignore the spark that coursed through her at the feeling of his hand wrapping around hers and pulling her up until she was standing in front of him. He didn’t let go even as Elain went up on her toes to peer at Nyx. Her other hand pressed into Azriel’s chest for balance as she leaned in to place a kiss on her nephew’s cheek.
“Sleep well now, sweet boy.” She said softly before backing up and finally letting her hand drop from Azriel’s chest.
“Goodnight.” He gave her a small smile and let go of her hand, motioning towards the nursery door with his chin - beckoning her to rest.
Elain couldn’t sleep even though she was utterly exhausted. She’d been laying in bed, staring up at her ceiling for hours now, her mind racing with seemingly no end in sight. She couldn’t stop thinking.
The way Azriel had looked at her was burned into her memory - the scan of his eyes over her hair, her nightgown clad body, the way his gaze softened as his alert eyes met her exhausted ones.
She pictured him with Nyx, that icy exterior of his melting as the soft side he kept carefully hidden came to the surface once his nephew was safe in his arms.
She thought of the feeling of his hand around hers - his scars grazing against her skin as his fingers wrapped around her delicate wrist. She remembered the feeling of his leather clad chest under her fingers, how the heat from him melted into her even through the thick material… how that heat made her want more - made her want to press her fingers to his bare skin, to feel the muscled chest beneath those leathers.
She pictured his full lips, how’d they once been barely an inch from hers - one hand on her throat with his fingers grazing her jaw to tilt her face up towards his, his other hand buried in her hair. She pictured what it would be like to have those hands of his on her neck again, on other parts of her too.
That all-too-familiar ache swept over her, settling deep in her bones just as it had for months now - night after sleepless night. The anger that coursed through her body during the day always seemed to shift into an unquenchable longing once the sun gave way to the moon and she was alone in her bed.
She knew it was wrong. Knew she had no right to think of him like this, to want him, need him like this. Not when he’d told her it’d been a mistake - even if the way he’d looked at her tonight had said otherwise.
She closed her eyes, breathing deeply to will away the ache in her chest, the ache between her thighs. She tried her best to try to find sleep until her keen hearing picked up on the sound of a door opening and closing.
Elain barely even realised what she was doing but suddenly she was out of bed and rushing to open the door to her room. She scanned the dark hallways until she found him standing at the top of the stairs. Azriel paused at the sound of her door opening but his shadows continued down the stairs without him.
“He’s asleep.” He turned to face her, those eyes once again quickly scanning her up, down, then back up again. “Why aren’t you?”
She took a second to look at him. Studied the way those leathers clung to him, perfectly contoured to every lean line of his toned body. He was so tall, so statuesque as if one of the gods had carved him out of stone with their very hands. His shoulders were so broad that they blocked out what little fae light carried up the stairs from the lower level of the house.
Elain ignored his question, months of that ache and anger suddenly coming together faster than she could even comprehend, combining into an emotion she couldn’t label. The words spilled out of her before she could even think it through.
“You haven’t spoken to me in months.” She seethed. “You told me I was a mistake and then you left me standing at the bottom of those stairs.” Elain gestured behind him. “You all but disappeared until Nyx was born. Even then, you stopped coming to family dinners, you only ever show up at the house for meetings with Rhys and Cassian and then leave the second they’re done. You go out of your way to avoid me, you refuse to even look in my direction. What did I do wrong?”
Azriel still hadn’t moved from where he had paused at the top of the stairs, his eyes fixed on hers in shock as he took in what she was saying.
“You…” He shook his head. “You did nothing wrong, Elain.”
“Then why?” Her voice broke as she took one small step down the hallway. “Why have you avoided me like this? You almost kissed me, and then you said I was a mistake…”
“I never said you were a mistake.” He took a step towards her. “You were not the mistake, Elain. I was the one who made a mistake by thinking I had any right to touch you.”
“Because you were with her? With Gwyn?” Elain’s hated how timid she sounded voicing the fear that she’d kept to herself all these months.
Azriel’s face fell.
“She was wearing my… I saw her wearing the necklace.” She corrected herself, leaving the rest unspoken. The crippling fear that Azriel had feelings for Nesta’s beautiful friend.
Elain had seen the necklace around Gwyn’s neck a few months ago when Nesta had invited her to the House of Wind to have lunch with some of the priestesses that she was training. She had done everything in her power to smile at the kind priestess, to try to make polite conversation and not break down in tears when she’d caught a glimpse of the stained glass rose sitting just under Gwyn’s collarbones.
She had willed herself not to think of how that necklace had ended up in Gwyn’s possession but had utterly failed. Had sat in silence, her mind racing as Nesta laughed with Gwyn. The priestesses' musical laughter like a soundtrack to the thoughts infiltrating her mind in that moment - had he looked at Gwyn like he’d looked at Elain that night? Had he put the necklace on her? Had his hands lingered on her throat? Had he kissed her like he’d almost kissed Elain? Did he visit her in the darkest hours of the night? Did she share his bed?
Jealousy swelled within her, the roaring in her ears so loud that she could barely even hear him when he spoke.
“Gwyn is a friend, Elain.” Azriel took another step forward, one hand coming up to land over his heart in earnest. “I help train her and we’re friends. There’s nothing more, I swear.”
“Then why?” She still didn’t understand, couldn’t work out how things had changed in a single second that night.
“I don’t know - I wasn’t thinking clearly after Solstice and I ran into her that same night and we spoke. Then I found the necklace with my gifts…I didn’t know what to do but I couldn’t keep it. So I went to the library and asked Clotho to give it to her, to any of the priestesses. I shouldn’t have done it, I know that now.” This was the fastest she’d ever heard him speak, his hands balling into fists at his sides as if he didn’t quite know what to do with them. “I don’t even think she knows it was from me.”
“No. I meant…” Elain shook her head. “If you weren’t seeing Gwyn then why was it a mistake? Why was it a mistake to almost kiss me?”
“You have a mate, Elain.” Azriel’s expression faltered. Even in this dark hallway, she could see the pain in his eyes.
Elain laughed. Just one single exhale of air at the reminder of her mate. Red hot rage once again seeped through her.
“That means nothing to me.” She shook her head. “I am so sick of everyone telling me that that means anything.”
“But it does.” Azriel replied. “The mating bond is… it’s rare and it’s a gift to be treasured. There’s nothing like it. To not acknowledge it, to not try at the very least, would be… it would be a mistake.”
“I don’t want to acknowledge it.” Elain’s throat felt like sandpaper, her frustration building with each second that passed.
“He’s a good male, Elain.” Azriel’s shoulders dropped in defeat as he broke eye contact with her, gazing at the floor before dragging his eyes up to meet her searing gaze once again. He looked defeated. “He’ll be good to you if you give him a chance.”
Elain took three steps forward, the distance between them becoming smaller although the was still so painfully far away.
“He may be a good male.” She paused, a shaky breath escaping her. She was unable to stop the tears that were falling from her eyes, didn’t have the strength to hold them back anymore. “He may be good, but he is not you.”
‘Elain…” Azriel tried to speak but she held up a hand, silencing him.
“He is not you, Azriel.” She sobbed.
Azriel’s knees threatened to buckle under the weight of her words. His ears buzzing as he desperately tried to focus on Elain, beautiful as ever in the moonlight despite the tears cascading down her cheeks. The tears that were there because of him.
Azriel.
She’d never said his name before. Not that he’d ever heard, anyway. Maybe she’d used it in conversations with the others but she had never once, in the last few years, ever used his name when speaking to him.
He is not you. He is not you, Azriel.
Those words, the way she said his name, ricocheted in his mind.
He took two long strides towards her, the distance between them minimal now - if he simply reached forwards, he’d be able to touch her.
“Azriel.” She repeated his name, her eyes searching his own. He still hadn’t said anything. “Did you hear me?”
He nodded, opening his mouth to say something but there were no words. He couldn’t think of a single thing to say. Could only stare into the depths of those brown doe eyes, glazed with tears, and listened as she continued to speak.
“Lucien… he tries with me because he feels like he has to. He tries because of the bond. He’d have no interest in me if there wasn’t this thing between us.” She was fighting to speak, her words interrupted by deep, heaving sobs.
Azriel fought every instinct that was roaring through him to reach out to her, to hold her against his chest and wipe away her tears.
“No one has stopped to think about what I want. They think that just because there is this bond, I must give myself over to him. That he is who I must be with. It’s not right. It doesn’t feel right. The bond is there. I can feel it and it is like a knife in my side. There is a pull to him, yes… but I’ve always felt a pull towards you, too.”
Azriel couldn’t believe what he was hearing, could barely keep up with everything she was saying as she bared her soul to him. Not even his shadows were there to guard him, to allow him to shroud himself in the safety of darkness. He was left to face her all on his own as she confirmed what he’d long suspected. That she felt that same pull, felt that energy that seemed to radiate between them since they’d first met.
“I felt drawn to you long before I was forced into that cauldron. You were there for me from the very beginning. You were the only one - the only one - to listen to me, to sit with me, to see me. They all thought I was losing my mind. I thought I was losing my mind. You were the only one to know. The only one to understand me.”
Azriel could tell she had thought this through - over and over again. Every word, though pained, was spoken with clear intent. He could tell that this wasn’t just hysterics in the heat of the moment. Elain meant every word she said and it rendered him absolutely speechless.
“My life was taken from me.” She went on, her voice quieter now as she took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “I lost my fiancé, I lost my humanity, I lost my father. So many choices were stolen from me the second I was changed. Do I not deserve to have a say in what I do now? Do I not deserve to have a say in who I love? Do I not deserve to have a say in my own happiness?”
“It’s complicated, Elain.” Azriel finally spoke, his voice barely a whisper. “You deserve a choice but that choice comes with endless costs…there is already so much tension between the courts.”
“I don’t care!” She took another step closer until there was no space between them at all. Her hands reached for his and though he should’ve taken a step back, should’ve pulled away, he let her take them, let her intertwine her perfect fingers in his.
“You came for me once.” Elain’s voice was soft as she looked up at him, her eyebrows knitting together as she stared into the depth of this soul - forced him to recall when he’d risked his life to rescue her. “You fought for me then, will you not fight for me again?”
Tears were still streaming down her face but her sobs had subsided, her voice stronger as she challenged him.
“You know I would, but it’s just… it’s complicated.” He reiterated.
“Do you not want this?” Her face fell, her hands dropping from his as she went to take a step back. The confidence that she had exhibited just a second ago, faltering.
Azriel moved without thinking, one hand landing on her hip to keep her with him.
She gasped as his fingers pressed against her, calluses snagging on the smooth silk of her white gown, the feel of his skin through the thin material warmed her from the inside out.
His other hand landed on her neck, just as it had months ago - his thumb tracing a gentle path along the soft line of her jaw.
“Of course, of course, I want this.” He shook his head as if he couldn’t believe she’d even had to ask. His voice was so low he wasn’t sure she’d be able to hear him despite her face being mere inches from his. “I will always want this.”
Her eyes searched his, her shoulders dropping as all the tension she’d been holding in her body flooded out of her, causing her to slump against him. Azriel fingers flexed, his grip on her hip tightening, keeping her steady.
“I want you.” Elain whispered, tilting her face to look at him properly. “It will always be you.”
She was on her tiptoes then, her hands sliding up his torso until they were on his chest for the second time that night - her nails pressed into his leathers until her lips were just barely against his.
“Please, Azriel.” She all but whimpered.
Her plea cracked something in his chest and he could no longer hold back. All the work he’d done to stay away all these months, all these years, all of it was undone in a single second at the sound of his name on her lips. At the feel of her body against his.
Every wall he’d worked so diligently to build, came crumbling down faster than he could even comprehend.
Azriel closed the distance between them, his hand still on her throat as his lips brushed hers for the first time.
There was no going back from this.
The second his lips pressed against hers, tentative and sweet, Elain knew in her heart, in her very soul that nothing, no one, would ever compare to this. To him.
Every thought, every worry, every doubt she’d ever had slipped from her mind as Azriel finally kissed her. His lips were soft as they moved against hers, gentle and careful. He was committing this moment to memory just as she was - both of them desperate to remember every second of this, every possible detail. His tongue slid against her lips and she opened for him without a second thought, allowing him to deepen the kiss as she met him stroke for stroke.
Elain couldn’t get close enough to him, her hands frantically coming up from his chest to tangle in his hair, fingers tugging him down in a silent request for more, more, more.
His groan as she pressed her body tight against his reverberated through her and she couldn’t help the desperate moan that escaped her in response. Every ounce of blood, every nerve in her body seemed to be screaming for him - for his attention.
“Touch me.” Elain begged. His face was buried against her neck now, his lips and teeth and tongue grazing the sensitive skin causing her to arch further into him even though there was barely any space between them to begin with. “Please, Azriel.”
He relented, his hand slipped from her throat, one finger slowly skimmed along the delicate neckline of her nightgown before traveling lower. After what felt like a million years, his fingers grazed her peaked nipple, circling once, twice, before his large palm covered her breast and squeezed gently. His other hand released her hip to slip behind her, gripping the generous curve of her ass and pressing her firmly against him - allowing her to feel exactly how hard he was for her.
Her head tipped back, exposing more of her neck to him as her mouth fell open, eyes fluttering shut at the sensation of him in between her thighs. Elain rolled her hips against his as if it was second nature, seeking out that delicious pressure against her core again and again all while cursing the few despicable layers of fabric that separated her from truly feeling every inch of him.
His lips were on hers once more, all his previous gentleness nowhere to be found, replaced instead with pure heated passion as he claimed her with bruising kisses. She was dizzy - all she could feel was him, all she could taste was him, all she could smell was him - the combined scent of both of their arousal was heavy in the air, permeating every square inch of the hallway.
Azriel’s hands slipped under her ass as he continued to kiss her, bunching up the silk of her gown until he could get his hands on the back of her bare thighs. He let his thumbs drift over her soft skin once before lifting her up easily. She wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms draped around his broad shoulders. He carried her with him, walking backwards until he could set her on a small console table in the middle of the hallway.
That familiar energy between them sizzled, only amplifying with each pass of his lips over her lips, her neck, her collarbones. She could’ve sworn there was a glowing aura around them as he lowered his face to her breasts, tongue laving at her nipples over her slip. The sensation of the damp fabric sliding against her skin was enough to have her seeing stars.
“Azriel.” She pleaded again, unsure what she was even asking for.
“Tell me what you want, Elain.” His mouth was still on her chest, hands raking her nightgown even further up her thighs as he raised his eyes to watch her. “Look at me and tell me what you want.”
Cool air hit the heat of her core at the exact same time she met his eyes.
The sound that she let out at that moment was almost embarrassing, her face and chest flushing. She felt him smile against the curve of her breast as he watched her. His eyes were darker than night, darker than she’d ever seen them. His tousled hair fell over his brows, casting shadows that only added to the darkness. Despite their darkness, there was a certain softness, a reverence in his gaze that she knew was reserved just for her.
She still hadn’t answered him. How could she possibly form words when his lips were on her breast? When his fingers were pressing into the flesh of her thighs? She couldn’t think straight, not when the soft ridges of his scars were sliding over her sensitive skin, going higher and higher with each pass as her legs widened for him on their own accord.
His eyes bore into hers as he straightened, raising up until his face was inches from her face. Azriel watched her carefully as he dragged a knuckle up her bare center - an absolute tease of a touch, so light that she almost wondered if she’d imagined it.
“Is this what you want, Elain?” His breath fanned over her as he spoke, their lips almost touching.
He pressed his forehead to hers. “Tell me.”
“Yes.” The word left her mouth in a gasp at the sheer command in his voice, at the brush of that same knuckle over the nerves at the apex of her thighs. She clutched at his neck, nails surely marking his skin as she kissed him.
Azriel kissed her as if he’d never get the chance to kiss her again, a searing kiss that caused a whole new wave of arousal to crest through her. But even his hot mouth pressing over hers couldn’t distract her from the feeling of two of his fingers slowly sliding through her, parting her, before his middle finger dipped into her just once.
“Look how wet you are for me.” He murmured in awe, pulling away just enough so he could bring his hand up between them. Azriel studied his fingers, the way the moonlight caught the wetness gathered there and made it glisten.
Her eyes went wide as she watched him take that finger into his mouth, his lips wrapping around it. She blushed when his eyes fluttered, savouring the taste of her.
“Do you have any idea how good you taste, Elain?” He returned his finger to her core, adding another, and then sank them into her once more in one slow thrust.
She couldn’t say anything, didn’t have the opportunity to when his fingers curled inside her, searching her upper walls until he found what he was seeking.
Those nimble fingers stroked a place that she hadn’t even known existed within her and Elain’s moan echoed in the hallway, her chest arching up into him - the friction of his leathers against her nipples only adding to the feeling of ecstasy that coursed through her.
Her hands roamed, grasping frantically at his chest, at his back. Azriel continued to steadily move his fingers within her. She needed to feel more of him. Needed the warmth of his skin.
“How do I…?” She whined, frustrated that she couldn’t find a single button or zip on his leathers. He’d have to do it. “Take this off.”
“No time. They’ll be back soon.” Azriel took her lower lip in between his teeth, tugging once before letting it go. “Just let me do this for you.”
She started to argue but Azriel kissed her again, increasing the pressure of his fingers as he stroked her over and over again.
“Another time.” He whispered, moving his lips to her neck and biting down lightly at the same time his thumb circled her clit.
“Fuck.” Elain cursed, immediately blushing as Azriel laughed against her throat - both of them surprised by her choice of words. She swallowed her embarrassment, choosing to focus on the desire burning low in her stomach instead. “Do that again.”
Azriel obeyed her order, running his thumb in smooth circles over her as he pumped his fingers into her, maintaining that same rhythm and ensuring that the tips of his fingers bumped against that spot inside of her with each pass.
Just a minute later, before she even knew what was happening, Elain’s vision blurred, her eyes squeezing shut as every nerve in her body came alive. She clutched at his hair, grabbing fistfuls of the silky strands as she clenched hard around his fingers. Her mouth fell open in a silent scream as she came for him.
Seconds, minutes, hours passed before she regained her sense of self. Azriel’s fingers had slipped out of her but he’d pressed himself against her instead, alleviating the emptiness that she felt without his fingers filling her. Azriel’s arms were wrapped around her, holding her tight to his chest, one hand in her hair as she attempted to catch her breath.
“That’s it, Elain.” He whispered into her hair, hands drawing soothing circles low on her back. “You did so good for me.”
“That was… I’ve never…” Elain breathed against his neck.
“You’ve… never?” Azriel stilled, his hand paused its circles but he continued to hold her against him.
“I mean, I’ve had…” Elain said quickly, trailing off. Her words were muffled as she spoke into his skin, “But no one’s ever done that for me. I’ve never…”
“Finished?” Azriel completed her sentence.
She nodded, face still tucked in the space between his neck and shoulder. Despite what they’d just done, she felt shy admitting this to him.
She pulled back slowly when he didn’t say anything further. The sweat from her body caused her slip to stick to her.
Elain swallowed her nerves, looking into his eyes - searching them for any sign of regret.
She found none. Only saw simmering lust and adoration.
“You deserve to feel like that every time, Elain.” A small satisfied smile tugged at his lips. Some primal part of him secretly fulfilled at the knowledge that he was the first person to make her come. He tucked a strand behind her pointed ear. “You should really go back to bed now.”
Elain’s eyebrows furrowed together. She wasn’t ready for this to end, wanted to stay here, safe in his arms, in this blissful bubble, forever. But besides that, she could still feel him - impossibly hard - where he was pressed firmly against her.
She kept her eyes on his as she reached down in between them, fingers itching to feel him but Azriel’s hand wrapped around her wrist, stopping her before she had the chance to touch him.
“They’ll be home soon.” He shook his head, bringing her hand up to his lips and pressing a kiss to each of her finger tips. “We have to save something for later.”
His words warmed something deep within her.
Later.
The promise of more.
“You won’t disappear again?” She allowed herself to voice her insecurity. The worry that things would go back to how they were before.
“No.” He didn’t hesitate. “I’ll seek you out. We’ll find a way. There’s more I want to do for you. With you.”
“Okay.” She nodded, leaning forward to kiss him again.
“This has to be just between us for now.” Azriel’s face was as serious as his voice. His large hands moved to cradle her face, fingers tracing softly along her cheekbones. “I’ll figure out how to make this work but for now… just between us.”
“Just between us.” She promised, repeating his words back to him.
She’d take whatever she could get. For now, this would have to be enough.
To have him in secret was better than not having him at all.
Azriel kissed her one last time before he backed out from between her legs, fixing her night gown to cover her before helping her down from where he’d perched her on the narrow table. His hands stayed on her waist, brushing over her curves until he was sure she was steady on her feet. “Goodnight, Elain.”
“Goodnight, Azriel.” She gave him a soft smile before walking away from him and back to her room.
The Shadowsinger watched until Elain’s door shut behind her and then he sighed, smoothing a hand over his unruly hair as he tried to figure out how the hell he was going to get the scent of them out of this hallway within the next hour.
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tswaney17 · 2 months
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High Infidelity - Part 1
Storm Coming, Good Husband, Bad Omen
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You voted, and here it is! The first part of High Infidelity, my Elriel Friends with Benefits AU. I've been sitting on this for a while and I'm excited to share part 1 with you. Not sure how many more will be after this (as I am still working on it, of course) but there will eventually be at least one more. You'll see why... 😏
My fanfic account: @tswaney17fics​​​
My ao3 account: tswaney17
Please let me know what you think about this update. I love getting your feedback. Constructive criticism is always welcome. 💕
Trigger warnings: language, NSFW
Word Count: 4,119
Read here, or view snippet below.
Elain threaded her slim fingers through the dark mop of hair upon Azriel’s head, her hips gyrating against his wicked, sinful mouth. His tongue lapped at her, toying and teasing her until she was trembling with need. His name passed through her parted lips in a breathy moan. “Azriel.”
He smiled against her—he always did. Elain could feel the way his mouth curled up at the corner against her sensitive slit. He fucking loved bringing her to that blissful edge, over and over, but never letting her cross the finish line until he deemed it time.
“Please, Az,” she pleaded. He’d been edging her with his mouth and fingers for what felt like years, and she was delirious with need.
Those amber eyes, blown wide with lust, peeked up at her through his dark lashes. “Would you like to come, my good girl?” he breathed, her wetness dripping off his chin.
Fucking Azriel was every girl’s wildest dream. The man knew how to pleasure a woman. He was skilled in every arsenal when it came to bedroom habits. Had touched on all of her dirtiest, kinkiest fantasies without missing a beat.
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slytherhys · 11 days
Text
Too Sweet (for me) - Part I
A/N: everybody say thank you Hozier for releasing this song and for making me wanna write smut inspired by it. (this is a 2 parts oneshot and chapter II will be posted tomorrow! Enjoy :)
TW: explicit language; explicit sexual content
Part II
Word Count: 906 words | You can also find this story on AO3!
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Red, fae lights flashed through the dimmed hall of the pleasure hall, each spark of light revealing bodies moving, dancing, grinding to the obnoxiously loud music as patrons lost themselves in each other’s unfamiliar touch. Azriel wasn’t sure if he was amused or appalled as he watched them from where he leaned against the bar, taking a sip from his whiskey glass. He settled on relieved that not a single familiar face looked back.
If the people around him were curious about why the court’s Spymaster was among them, they didn’t let it show. Other than the pretty fae looking his way with a coy smile every now and then, no one else seemed all that interested in his presence – which served him just right. He wasn’t particularly interested in making conversation. In fact, the very purpose of being here was to be able to forget about himself – about who he was, what and who he wanted – for just a single fucking moment.
He wasn’t sure he was being all that successful.
He signalled the barman for another glass, wondering if maybe the key to forgetting it all was to simply do as they all did – to get so shitfaced that the touch of a stranger wouldn’t repulse him, that his worries and doubts would disappear, drowned in a dangerous amount of alcohol that not even his Illyrian body would be able to burn through fast enough. Rhysand had seemed to think so.
Azriel wasn’t as convinced.
Not when, even three glasses of whiskey in, he couldn’t seem to stop thinking about her. A kaleidoscope of memories haunted him each time he blinked, painting those empty, craving moments with images of her parted pink lips, her breath, warm and wet against his skin, her hooded brown eyes. How they fluttered shut when his scarred hand wrapped around her throat. A gentle yes so sweet, it had nearly sent him to his knees.
But that was the problem, wasn’t it? She was entirely too fucking sweet for him. A lightness that he knew wasn’t for him, no matter how much he craved it. No matter how much he craved her. And, Mother, did he crave her.
But he couldn’t have her. That much, had been made pretty clear.
So Azriel gulped down his drink, wincing as it burned a path down his throat. He willed it to numb him, even if he knew how unlikely it was that he’d be able to burn her memory away from his brain. But that was why was here – to stop him from wanting what he couldn’t have. Or at least to forget about it. At least for the night, he could replace her satin skin for someone else’s, and maybe the rough touch of a stranger would wash away the memory of her soft hands and all the times they had held on to him. Maybe a night spent fucking someone new would make him forget about all the fucked-up, twisted fantasies of her tied to his bed and how they had brought him release.  
He eyed the pretty fae looking his way, eyed the dancefloor with its pumping heartbeat, an incitation promising all sorts of wicked things – and let himself go.
He wasn’t entirely sure how long it took him. Didn’t particularly care about anything but the wind on his face, the cold biting into his skin, sobering him up as he flew. He clenched his hands as he landed on a familiar garden, willing his heartbeat to slow the fuck down as he blinked away the darkness that suddenly seemed to surround him. He didn’t need to look around to know where he was – he knew exactly where he was. Knew the pansies and the violets and the gardenias that peppered up the front lawn just as he knew that there wasn’t a world where he could avoid her a second longer.
This was a bad idea. A terrible idea. He had no business being here, absolutely no business wanting her to open the front door, preferably dressed in her pink satin robe, cheeks rosy and a soft smile on her lips. He had no right to smile at the thought of her welcoming him into her home, into her bed, into her body. He had no right to listen to her sweet moans, to feel her panting against his naked skin as he slid into her–
“Are you coming in?” A sweet voice interrupted him, indecent thoughts coming to a halt. Azriel whirled around, taking in the sight in front of him. Shivers ran down his spine as he watched her watch him back. Leaning against the door, hair tousled and falling down her back, Elain Archeron was a fucking vision. Her cheeks were rosy, her arms crossed over her chest. Under her open, pink satin robe he could see a glimpse of lace that had him swallowing down every obscene thought going through his mind. Elain tilted her head, as if she knew exactly what he was thinking about and wasn't particularly impressed. For a second, he wondered if she would take back her question and send him back to his apartment, but without waiting for a reply, she turned around and went back inside, leaving the front door wide open. An invitation if there ever was one.
He knew, without a doubt, he had no fucking right to follow her inside.
And yet, he did.
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