Imagines Smut

𝑨𝒛𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒍

your legs burned as you made the trek up the mountain. flushed skin cooled by a soft drizzle of rain.
you were on a mission with the shadowsinger. to do what? you did not know. you were not paying attention when your high lord went over the details. your eyes glazed over with boredom. fingers drumming against your thigh.
now said thigh was burning with excretion. you stared at the shadowsinger's ass as his legs moved and progressed. his wings would twitch once in a while.
it was a silent mission. your communication mostly wordless, but sometimes he missed the sound of your voice.
"azriel?"

he froze. his head turning slightly to look back at you.
"how come we aren't using those wings of yours to cover more ground faster?" you panted.
the corners of his mouth twitched.
"weren't you listening to rhysand? the plant we need to find camouflages easily... you do know we are looking for a plant?"
"a plant?" you furrowed your brows.
"yes, amren wanted it for something."
"for what?"
"do you never listen during our meetings?" this time his lips pursed to keep from smiling.
"no. can't be bothered."

he hummed. he looked up at the cloudy sky, the fall of water had become less of a drizzle and more of rain.
azriel always wondered where your pretty brain went during the meetings with the inner circle. you would sit in a corner and stare. out a window, up to the ceiling, down into your lap. your eyes glazed over and pretty lips stretched in a faint smile.
he was always frustrated over the way he couldn't smell you. no one could. you had a distinct scent. not wholly fae. but no one could smell your emotions. which was highly disconcerting.
no one could smell your emotions, and it was something you took advantage of. spending your time daydreaming of the shadow singer.
it was getting late. you made note of that out loud. you also made note of the heavy rain.
"how about we find somewhere to rest for the night?"

he gave you a curt nod.
the cave you found was relatively small.
you shuddered, your freezing drenched clothes clinging to your clammy skin. your lips were numb. azriel set up camp, unloading the small bags you each carried, and making a makeshift cot, the bags enhanced to be larger on the inside than on the outside. just enough stuff to make one comfortable cot, just big enough for one illyrian, not that he was going to use it, but still you would be comfortable.
"should i make a fire?" you raised your palms, preparing to call upon your magic. calloused scarred covered yours.
"no!" his voice was rough, you flinched, and he coughed, "no fires. please." his voice whiny. eyes pleading, glistening in the last rays of sun that slipped into the cave, bouncing around softly, creating a buttery glow.

"okay. no fires. but we can't stay idle in winter, we will get frostbite" your voice shook with cold.
he felt guilty. you looked so delicate and breakable. your skin losing color. lips trembling, chin wobbling.
"look, please don't be embarrassed, i don't want you to freeze, but i can't deal with a fire right now."
thankfully you did not prod. "what do you suggest?" you stammered.
he flushed, you could hear his heartbeat accelerate.
you smirked. "azriel? are you suggesting body heat?"
he could not form words, just barely managing to nod.
you nodded. rushing to take your clothes off. hands fumbling with the buckles and buttons.