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tadpolesonalgae · 1 year

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Modern YA! Azriel x reader - Good, Little, Girl <3 part 2

-Part 1- -Part 3-

How naïve could you be?

He ground his teeth, thinking what could have happened if you’d gone back to another man’s house.

It was a little unhealthy, how much he was obsessing over that, and he knew it. It’d just been so long since he’d felt a more than platonic pull toward someone. Sexual was fine. Sexual, he knew how to handle. But romantic? Fuck that.

The image of you hesitantly reaching for his jacket reappeared in his mind, how you’d taken a few cautious steps foreword, scared he’d pounce. A smile tipped his mouth. Even if he had pissed you off by acting like a hormonal douche bag, he’d seen that side which, according to how you’d been acting the past month, you didn’t pull out unless you had to. Meaning few other people had seen it at all.

Pulling himself from his thoughts, he made his way out into the hallway, wanting to make sure you found your way to the bathroom.

He froze in the doorway.

Your skirt was hiking up the backs of your bare thighs, showing off soft, unmarked skin. Eyes involuntarily trailing higher, higher, until he met a thin line of cream lace, blending into clean, white cotton.

Jesus Christ.

The muscles of your thighs flexed, before you were snapping up and spinning around, eyes catching his.

“What the hell was that?” Even to his own ears he sounded somewhat breathless. Your eyes were flitting frantically across the room, set on landing anywhere but him as a deep flush bloomed across the crest of your cheeks. “I was just—” you held up the pair of tights, “—picking these up,” you squeaked, eyes flicking to meet his for barely a second before they were darting away again.

You cleared your throat, lifting your chin in an attempt to look dignified after you literally just flashed the poor man, “I’m just…going to—” you hurriedly span on your feet, heading swiftly toward the bathroom.

————

The material was surprisingly warm, swallowing you in a mouthful of thick, dark cotton that brushed over your bare skin. He wouldn’t mind you not wearing a bra, right? Yours was soaked, and surely he wouldn’t want his jumper getting wet… besides, there was nothing inherently bad about nipples. Men had them too.

Still…

You bundled it up in your other clothes, keeping it hidden as you unlocked the door, quietly padding down the stairs in search of Azriel.

First, you went into the kitchen-slash-living-room-area (KSLRA - it was too much of a mouthful otherwise), wondering if there was a place to hang your clothes to dry. “Looking for something?” You startled, turning to see him leaning casually in the doorway, hands in his pockets. He gave you a single glance over.

A bit dismissive, but okay.

“I was wondering if—” he rose a single brow disapprovingly. Heat washed down the back of your neck, fingers tightening on the damp clothes. “I…would like somewhere to hang these? To dry?” He sighed, pushing off from the door frame, coming to a stop in front of you, so much taller.

“I’ll take them,” he said simply, holding out his hands for you to dump the clothes into. The heat rose to your ears as you too a small step back, bringing the bundle closer to you, “it’s okay, I’ll hang them up,” you managed, not quite meeting his eye. He cocked a brow, a teasing grin playing on his mouth, “worried I’ll nose at your underwear?” Your lips parted in shock, hugging the bundle closer self-consciously, “stop saying things like that,” you muttered, avoiding his keen gaze, “besides, I’m capable of performing basic household chores.”

He drank in your embarrassment like it was fine ambrosia, unable to help how his curiously dipped to your hips - that were covered completely. Maybe he wasn’t at good at handling his sexuality as he’d previously thought. Well, shit.

Azriel huffed a laugh, “why am I not surprised a good girl like you refuses to let anybody do anything for her?”

When he’d spotted you in his kitchen, looking around, the first thing he’d taken in was how the hem of his jumper - that usually rested fairly snuggly around his hips - was swaying comfortably just below the swell of your ass, the material stretching ever so slightly to make accommodations. The arms and torso section were far too large, and he’d probably have to wash it once you left, though he found himself not really minding.

Kind of liking it, actually.

Having your scent on his clothes.

“Stop calling me names. It’s childish and unnecessary,” you spoke firmly, though you looked a little nervous. His mouth tipped upward, “now you’re getting the hang of it.”

————————

When you did eventually manage to arrange all your clothes so your bra was hidden, you turned to find him sprawled casually across one of the large sofas, clicking through some things in the TV. He caught you looking, switching his attention in favour of you, “what d’you fancy?”

Cautiously, you made your way over to the sofa, glancing around before carefully sliding over the broad armrest, sitting at the opposite end, tucking yourself neatly into its corners. “I’m fine with anything,” you spoke, “you choose.” It was then your eye caught in the drop-down to switch accounts, brow furrowing. “Which reminds me, I thought you lived with your friends?”

His eyes were already on you when you sent him and inquisitive glance. “Rhys and Cass? They’re my brothers. And they’re out tonight. A party downtown,” he explained, watching you for something. Your brow furrowed, “I wouldn’t have thought you were related, you all look so different,” you mused softly.

“We don’t share parents,” he replied, making you tilt your head in confusion. “I thought you said you were siblings?” His features remained neutral, if a little withdrawn. Had you said something? “They’re my chosen family.”

Oh.

“You’ve never been that close with someone?” He asked in return. You pursed your lips, a little embarrassed you hadn’t caught on sooner, “no. Though, I’ve read about stuff like that…I guess?” You resisted the urge to cool your cheeks with your hands. He inclined his chin in silent curiosity. “You know, like…found family? The trope? In books?”

“Ah, you read.” You nodded hesitantly. “What sort of things?”

“I like fantasy things. I don’t have any siblings so it was nice to fill my time with something like that,” you supplied, thinking about the afternoons you spent in the summer, sprawled out on the lawn, reading and rereading anything and everything you could get your hands one.

“Do you and your brothers have any activities you like to do together? Shared hobbies?” You inquired, curious to know if he liked things outside of going to various house parties. His grin was slow and wicked, “you could say that.” He was practically daring you to ask. You were almost certain the answer would be just as shocking as everything else he’d done this evening. A small, hidden away, part of you wanted to know. “Like…what?” Why did you feel breathless?

“Is the good girl getting curious?” He drawled, his voice sending a small tingle of excitement down your back. Your brow narrowed, “you know how I feel about that.” Your scowl morphed into your own subtly mocking expression, “there a reason you’re too shy to tell me?”

Azriel shifted on the sofa, moving to sit up right, leaning forward a little, “well, it’s got something to do one of those rumours you’ve supposedly heard,” he smirked. Dick. “I’m sure a clever girl like you can piece something dirty enough together to preoccupy your mind.” He turned his attention back to the TV, “now, choose something before I put on a film that will send you diving under the bed covers.”

That was a lot to unpack.

You scowled, “what? Just because I’m a girl you think I can’t take horror?” In a fit of bravery you crawled across the expanse of the sofa to him, snatching the remote from his hand. Sitting up on your knees, one hand braced against the back of the sofa to steady yourself, you began searching for something to watch. “I never said anything about horror, clever little thing.” You gave him a puzzled look, to which he smirked, making it all click.

“For god’s sake,” you muttered under your breath. “Are you always this…lewd?” You switched your attention away from him, scanning through the shows though you accidentally mis-clicked, going down into the ‘continue watching’ section. “I think you bring out the worst in me,” he drawled and you could feel his attention on you, “you’re just so easy to tease.”

You sent him a glare, before stopping on a particular programme. “Adventure Time?” You looked him over; he seemed to sit up straighter. “I’ve been rewatching it,” he supplied, offering you a charming grin you weren’t quite prepared for, settling back down into your knees while watching him suspiciously. “Isn’t it a little PG for your tastes?”

“I can be PG when necessary. You seem to be a very PG person,” he replied smoothly. Now you were scanning all his words for double meanings, which was ridiculous. Still, you narrowed your eyes at him, “what’s that supposed to mean, Azriel?” His eyes flicked to yours at the use of his name. “Means you’re a kind and lovely person.” The look he was giving you told you he was lying. You chose to move past that one, clicking on the show to start watching it.

“Want a blanket?” He asked, already reaching forward to grab to dark cover. “Sure…” you looked at him curiously as he draped it over you instead of just handing it to you, “…thanks.”

“Now you just sound ungrateful.”

“Good thing I’m not trying to please you,” you snapped back, untucking your legs from beneath you, curling up beneath the blanket.

When you finally focused on the TV, you realised it was already partially through the episode. “Where’s the remote? I’ll rewind it,” he asked from beside you, sitting up in order to search for the small device. “Oh, don’t,” you murmured, pressing your hand over his absently to stop him from changing anything, “I love this one.” You’d already been pulled back into the Adventure Time world.

“I remember watching this over and over again as a kid,” you whispered, reminiscing. “You like this one?” He asked, though his attention wasn’t really on the TV. You nodded, still enraptured in the episode. It had been so long since you’d seen it. Maybe it would be healthy to rewatch it, relive some of those comforting times.

“Any particular reason?” He pressed, keeping still beside you, which you appreciated. It got a little annoying when people kept shifting about, or going up and down to get things. “The song,” you mumbled, “I used to reply it all the time. I absolutely loved his voice, and how they interacted.” You knew he was grinning.

“TV crush?”

Your eyes tore themselves from the screen, “can you blame me? Listen to him!” His mouth lifted into a smile, a gleam in his eyes.

“So you’re a voice type of girl?”

You rolled your eyes, “we’re not going into that.”

He looked at you curiously, “into what?”

“People’s types.”

“Why not?” He questioned, but you shushed him, frowning and waving your hands lightly in his direction, making him laugh, lowly. You returned your attention to the TV. “Come on, why not?” He pushed, a chuckle in his voice as you glared at him. “Because the song’s going to start, and I’ll make you rewind if I miss a second of it.”

There was a beat of silence.

“Do you remember all the words?” You turned to him, exasperated, though he didn’t seem to mind, “of course I do.”

He smiled mischievously, “great. Sing along.”

You glared at him, “no way!”

“Why not? Scared?” He teased. At the slightly humiliated look you gave him, the glint in his eyes sobered, “I won’t make fun of you if you can’t sing for shit,” he spoke gently.

You still looked hesitant.

“Come on, it’ll be fun.” He gave an apologetic look, “you know what that is, right?” You gasped, swatting his arm, “rude.” He smiled, “come on, I’ll be going first, anyway,” he reasoned.

“Who says I don’t want to sing the male part?” You pushed, just for the sake of it. He grinned, “you want to go first?” When you pursed your lips, he nodded, “thought not.”

You exhaled heavily, collapsing into the sofa, “promise you won’t laugh.”

“Why would I laugh? How do you know I don’t have an awful voice?”

You scoffed, “please, there’s no way you’re anything but perfect.” A hint of colour touched the crests of his cheeks, a matching shade flushing your own as you stared at each other. “Otherwise you wouldn’t have suggested it,” you hurriedly tagged on the end. He hummed, the pleasant timbre of his voice sending a— doing nothing to you, a voice quickly corrected.

“I think you’d enjoy it. You won’t know unless you find out,” he proposed. “Besides, if you’re into voices nearly as much as you’ve suggested so far, you’ll be crawling onto—”

“Don’t finish that sentence.”

“Sing with me?”

You gave him a heated look, to show your displeasure. Though you were definitely enjoying yourself.

“Crawling onto my c—”

“Fine! Fine! Stop!” You smacked his shoulder before slumping down into the sofa, covering your heated face with your hands, “Jesus Christ.”

The music started in the background.

“You know that’s my line, little thing,” he teased, goading you to look at him but you only slumped further into the sofa, unable to look at him.

You froze when you felt his hands wrap around your wrists, gently prying them from your face.

“Good, little, girl,” he cooed, his voice a melodic drawl, “always picking a fight with me. You know that I’m bad,” he sang, looking intently into your eyes as you allowed him to pull your hands from your heated cheeks, “but you’re spending the night with me.” A devious grin spread across his mouth as that line, making you want to scowl. Much to your dismay, you ended up smiling.

“What—” his voice had deepened to a honey-like purr, “—do you want—” something fluttered in your lower belly, “—from my world? You’re a good, little, girl.” He gave you a wicked grin, the kind that just made you smile instead of glare.

It gave you a strange rush, how close he was.

“Bad—” you emphasised the word, “—little, boy.” His eyes glimmered “That’s what you’re acting like, I really don’t buy—” you leaned in a little closer, “that you’re that kind of guy.” You moved forward onto your hands, “and, if you are—” you smiled, “—why, do you want to hang out with me?” You sat back on your calves, giving up on the ground you had covered, the music continuing on in the background.

Did he follow after you a little?

“See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?” He grinned, moving so that one of his legs was tucked against his broad chest, the other splaying across the sofa, also folded at the knee. “I suppose it was kind of fun,” you admitted, eyes flitting away from his, looking to land on something less intense. Less attractive.

He frowned, noticing your skittish eyes. “Are you anxious about something?”

You shook your head, trying to meet his gaze, “no…” He gave you a look to tell you he didn’t believe you. You narrowed your eyes at him, then sighed in resignation, “it’s getting late…” you began. He glanced over his shoulder to see it was indeed dark out. Had been for a while. “I’m not kicking you out.”

You managed a slight laugh, “I have to leave at some point.” You looked over at your clothes, “you think they’ll be dry? I don’t want to have to walk back in damp clothes.”

“I’m not sending you out into the night in half dried clothes,” his tone completely serious. Was he worried? Of course he was worried, he’d be worried about anyone.

“You could stay the night,” he proposed, casually. Your eyes flicked to his.

“I don’t want to intrude. Besides, won’t your brothers be back at some point? I wouldn’t want to startle them,” you listed off the reasons why you should leave. Azriel gave you a look you couldn’t interpret, shifting on the sofa to sit upright instead of reclining against the broad armrest. “It’s fine, it’s not unusual for one or more of us to have…company,” he hesitated on that last word, watching your eyes.

It seemed to fly straight over your head, his lips twitching.

“No, I’d feel bad. And I should let my flatmates know where I am this late. I said I’d be back before eleven.” You furrowed your brow, “what time is it?”

“Quarter past midnight.”

“Shit.” You pushed up from the sofa - tried to. The moment you set your foot down, the cover got caught between you and the varnished floor, making you slip, falling backward onto the sofa, yelping.

Strong arms caught you, changing your trajectory so you fell neatly into his lap. “Jesus,” you panted, hand over your heart from the near-death experience. “Very smooth, little thing, very smooth indeed,” his words brushed against your nape, making your hairs stand on end. You tried to wriggle out of his lap, but his hands grasped your hips firmly, keeping you planted where you were, “carefull.”

You frowned, “didn’t realise you took being fallen on so personally,” you muttered. “Next time, I’d appreciate you falling for me, rather than on me,” he managed, words a gentle caress of your neck. You scoffed, “first of all, you’re the one who made me fall on you, and second of all, never.”

His grip on your hips lessened, giving you the chance to gently push forward to crawl out of his lap, before turning to face him. “You good, now?” He nodded, though his gaze was heavy. “I’ll go see if my clothes are dry,” you hastily fed into the silence, hopping up from the couch, carefully, and heading over to the drying rack.

Sighing, “they’re still a little damp, but they’ll be fine, I guess…” you removed the items, hanging them over your arm, intending on changing. “Just pop the skirt on. Don’t bother with the rest,” he called to you, making you freeze, heat climbing up your neck. “Azriel!” He arched a brow in question, mentally replaying his words. A grin spread across his mouth, “I meant on top of what you’re already wearing.” He moved so he was looking over the sofa back, palm propping his cheek, “but feel free to surprise me.”

You huffed, before moving to the hallway, aiming for the stairs. Maybe swinging your hips a little more than necessary.

When you reached the bathroom door, palm poised to press down on the handle, he called after you. “Get changed in my room. I want to brush my teeth.” You were about to snap a reply, but it was his house. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah?” He replied, coming up the stairs. “Weird question, but okay.”

You tilted your head, then, “no— are you fine with me changing in your room,” you laughed, “I wasn’t questioning your hygiene habits, Azriel.” His eyes zapped to your mouth when you said his name.

“Azriel?”

He coughed, breaking out of whatever train of thought he’d hopped on. “Are you sure you’re fine with me changing in your room?” His brow furrowed, “why wouldn’t I be?” He asked it like it was the simplest thing in the world. “Aren’t you worried I’ll snoop through your things?” His hand rubbed the back of his neck, eyes flicking away from you as he blew out a breath, returning his eyes to you, “I mean, you can? If you’d like? You just might be a little traumatised after.”

Your brow dipped deep, “‘traumatised’? Your room smelt too clean to have a dead body in it, so I doubt it’s that bad?”

He laughed.

A look of concern crossed your features, “Azriel?”

“No, I don’t have a dead body in my room, that would be impractical,” he reassured. You didn’t look convinced, “no, it’s just…” he sighed, “just get changed. If you see anything, that’s your own fault and what you get for snooping.” You looked positively distrustful. “You know, I could just wait until you’ve finished brushing your teeth. I don’t have to get changed now.” The fucker rolled his eyes, “I promise it’s not that bad, just hurry on. You said you were supposed to be back over an hour ago.”

You fumbled for your phone, pulling out from the waist of the tights. “What are you doing?”

“I’m gonna—” you nearly dropped the phone, “—text my flatmates. Let them know I’ll be back a little later. And that everything’s fine.” He watched as your nose scrunched a little in concentration, squinting at the harsh electronic light. He sighed to himself, walking over to you before splaying his hands across your shoulders, making you jump, “and what are you doing?”

“Since you apparently can’t text and walk at the same time, I’m guiding you to my bedroom,” he supplied smoothly. You huffed as you fired off the message as he gently pushed you over the threshold, shutting the door behind you.

————————

He knocked on the door, “you ready?”

A muffled, and a bit of a breathless, “almost!” Came through the door. “I thought you were just slipping into that skirt?” He called, leaning against the doorframe, an idea popping into his head, “unless…you had a look around?”

“No?” The reply was too quick, making him grin. What had the little thing stumbled upon? Of course, he had no actual confirmation—

The handle turned, revealing you, cheeks flushed, the rest of your clothes folded neatly in your arms as you hurried out of his room, almost smacking into him as soon as you turned to head down the corridor. That was all the confirmation he needed.

He leant over, hunching until he was able to look you in the eye, very close, “what did you find, little thing?” You flushed more, backing up a few steps hurriedly, “nothing. What makes you think I saw anything, or even had an interest in looking in the first place?” He cocked his head, a satisfied smirk on his mouth, hands tucking into his sweat pants pockets. Your quickly averted your eyes as he stood back up to his full height. “Have I scared the little lamb off?”

You levelled him with a scathing glare, “stop that.”

“What would you prefer? ‘Little goat’?”

“Little goat?” You repeated, astonished.

“They have horns, to hit you with when they’re pissed,” he tucked his hands into his hair, sticking his index fingers up. “If I’m a goat, then you’re a…” your eyes flickered around, trying to find something appropriate. “I’m a…?” He pressed, giving you a cocky look.

“A…” you stumbled, not knowing what to say. “Radish!” You exclaimed, triumphantly. “You’re a radish!”

Azriel gave you an unimpressed look, “a radish?” You nodded eagerly, “ because I hate them, but goats eat them. Could probably swallow one in five minutes. You’d be a goner,” you grinned, convinced you’d outsmarted him.

Now…

…he knew what you meant. Knew how you’d meant it. Knew what you hadn’t meant.

Still, heat flared within him, stretching in anticipation. He couldn’t resist. “I’d like to think I’d last longer than five minutes,” he purred, leaning in as his shadow enveloped you, “but anytime you want to try swallowing me, you’re more than welcome.”

Your mouth dropped open as he stood back up, turning to walk back along the corridor as if nothing had happened. When he reached the staircase and noticed you weren’t following him, he turned, throwing you an arrogant grin, “something on your mind?” You stormed down the hallway, brushing past him and heading down the stairs, stopping at the bottom to harshly tie your shoes, heat crawling beneath your skin.

You grabbed your bag from the floor, tugged your scarf from the hook, flinging it over your shoulders before you turned for the door, opening it. “Goodnight, Azriel.” Shutting the door gently. You didn’t want to damage the lock.

#azriel #Azriel acotar #acotar #good little girl

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