#dark!Azriel smut

[tadpolesonalgae]

Dark!Azriel x reader: Stockholm Syndrome[***]

A/N: This is for the Eat You Up girlies <3

Warnings: dubcon themes, dark!Azriel, CNC kink, bdsm undertones, leashes + collars, heavy Dom/Sub dynamics, sex toys, knife play, pussy-spanking, impact play, degradation, foot-humping, biting, slight choking, shadows, sadomasochism, somnophilia, nipple play…?, spitting, mention of non-con

Word Count: 9,960

Visual Prompt here!

You pad quietly along the corridor, searching.

Shadows flick at your ankles, around your bare calves, herding you gently toward the stairs. Teeth bite softly into your lower lip as you ascend the case, feet tiptoeing along the carpeted hallway as you’re guided to his office. The door is ajar, and you spot him at his desk, walking in silently.

Not silent enough, apparently.

Hazel eyes flick over his shoulder, pinning you to the floor, and you still, breath catching in your throat. He turns a little in his chair, darkness thrumming around him, wreathing the great, powerful wings at his back. His eyes catch on your bare thighs, gaze darkening as he drinks you in, frozen in his room.

Azriel’s lips quirk, and that’s all it takes to have your limbs unsticking.

You eagerly pad forward, walking up to him, hands moving to your hips then wrapping round the base of your spine. Your own hands land on his broad shoulders as you slide into his lap, legs parting either side of his thighs. You press into his warmth, nestling deeper into the firm strength of him, nosing at his throat.

Azriel’s large hand strokes your hair, soothingly possessive, tucking you away.

A hum sounds in your chest, almost a purr, and your hips wind gently over his own, rocking your centre against him. He can feel the softness of your sex through the seam of his leathers. “Been a long day, huh?” He asks, large hand spanning your throat as he eases you back—so he can look at you. Remind himself how obedient you are. How docile you’ve become.

You blink quietly up at him, satisfaction gleaming in his sharp, hazel eyes.

White canines flash as his lips lift into a grin, “want something, pet?” Your hips roll onto his needfully, fingers tightening in the fabric of his shirt. A low chuckle sounds deep in his chest, “want my cock, hm?” Your head dips, and he laughs again. “I’d’ve thought all the maidenly blushing would have been fucked out of you by now,” he drawls, the rich timbre of his voice stirring something hot and liquid in the pit of your belly.

Papers rustle behind you, but you’re too busy staring up at him to care.

“Get on the desk. Legs spread,” he orders, and you practically fizzle with excitement. Sliding out of his lap, and raising yourself up carefully, so your ass is perched near the edge. Thighs part shyly, and you’re thankful for the fabric covering your heat. No matter how many times he’s already seen you, from all sorts of obscene angles.

You squirm when he remains quiet, simply leaning back in his chair, eyes slowly raking over you, leisurely taking you in, as if you aren’t burning with need. His gaze fixates on a spot between your legs, the teal silk darkened and damp. Heat bubbles as his tongue flicks out, wetting his lips. Showing his growing appetite.

“Remove your top for me, pet,” he says softly, eyes so full of starving hunger it sends goosebumps raising across your skin, nipples peaking as your fingers catch the hem of the cotton. Pulling it up over your head, you shiver in the cool air of his office, toes curling at the intensity of his gaze.

Silence stretches as he watches with predatory intent, allowing your anxiety to build, anticipation thrumming beneath your skin.

“Do you remember when you used to protest to all this?” He asks softly, sharp hazel piercing into you, pinning you to his desk. “How you used to scream, and beg for me not to touch you?” A shiver thrills down your spine, and he marks it eagerly. “Answer me, pet.”

You dip your head. “I do.”

His mouth parts in a grin, canines peeking from below his upper lip. “Want to recreate that for me?”

Breath catches in your lungs, muscles stiffening as you stare at him, heat washing your cheeks. “What…?” His eyes seem to almost glow with anticipation, and he pushes up from his chair. The space between you is gobbled up in a single stride, then his hands are resting heavily around your hips, pressing close between your thighs. “Want to make it fun, don’t you?” He drawls, watching you intently.

You dip your head again, cheeks heating, but he lightly grips your jaw, raising your chin. “Go on,” he murmurs, eyes scanning your features hungrily. “Make the hunt good.”

Arousal licks between your legs, but then he steps back, and you watch him curiously.

Azriel merely steps aside, encouraging you to go. “Hide.”

Heat sparks in the pit of your belly, and you’re hopping off his desk, grabbing your top, receiving a firm smack on the ass as you leave. “I’ll know if you don’t try hard enough,” he calls after you, voice being carried on those shadows, speeding you along.

First, you stop at your bedroom, but no—too obvious. Next is the kitchen, but nowhere to hide. Next is the study, and you sneak in, checking to see if you could fit under the desk. No way. But there’s a set of keys laying half hidden beneath some papers, and you smile to yourself.

Silently, you slide the key into the one remaining lock on the back door—having watched the other six come off over the years. Until just one remains. You catch it as it clicks open, careful not to make a sound as you open the door.

And hurry out into the night.

————

Toes curl in excitement as you settle your legs either side of the broad trunk, feet dirty from scaling the large tree. But now you’re up here, hidden, and have a good view of a few of the windows leading into your house.

Watch as he checks the bedroom first—he definitely would have found you there. Then the washroom, a few rooms you can’t see, the kitchen… He disappears for a while, and you assume he’s checking the study. Excitement thrills down your spine as you watch him search for you. Is this how he felt all those years? Secretly observing your activities?

It’s exhilarating.

When he reappears in the bedroom, his shadows are darker, writhing around his wings. He’s begun to figure you’re not in the house—he must not’ve seen the lock yet. You smile to yourself, satisfied with your efforts.

His movements drop their leisurely pace, sharpening to something more brutal. Lethally efficient as he checks each room again, going through the lovely house.

When the ground shakes slightly, you can guess he’s found the opened lock—guessed you’ve escaped out into the world. Returned to where he plucked you from.

Azriel prowls out into the garden, hazel eyes flicking left and right, scanning for movement, and you hold your breath. His nostrils flare, and he moves forward, shadows hunting close to the ground. He reaches the base of the tree, and comes up short. Your scent disappears from the ground.

He’s still. Quiet.

Then he begins muttering to himself. Your name, over and over. A strange spell being woven as he chants it repeatedly under his breath. Hands tighten to fists at his side, shadows writhing, and you can feel his agitation from below.

You watch, curiously. You’ve not seen him like this in a long time.

So you grip a pinecone, and drop it over the edge.

Immediately he stops, going silent. Staring at the cone at his feet. His gaze snaps up, razor-sharp hazel slicing into you, and you freeze. Cold, glittering fury dances in his eyes.

Excitement heats your body, hands gripping the trunk as you swing your leg over the side. Then tip off the edge.

His eyes widen, instantly moving to catch you, shadows springing up to soften your fall, and you feel it as his strong arms wrap protectively beneath you. Pressing you to his body. His grip is tight—possessive, and you nestle closer. “What d’you think?” You mumble, pulling back to peer up at him.

“I thought you’d gone,” he mutters, tips of his fingers tightening on you, before loosening, allowing you to settle your feet on the ground. “You know you’re not allowed out here,” he reminds roughly, hand settling on your waist, spanning the width easily.

Your hands settle on his chest, feeling the beat of his heart against his rib cage. How fast and hard it’s pumping.

“You told me to make it good,” you murmur, “didn’t I do good?”

“I thought you’d gone,” he repeats with devastating softness. Maybe you shouldn’t have let it go on for that long. “I thought you’d gone,” he says sharply, squeezing your waist. “I’m here,” you say softly, pressing into him. “I haven’t gone any—”

“I thought you’d runaway,” he mutters, a little frenzied. “I thought you’d been pretending. That you’d succeeded in escaping from me.”

You brow furrows, “Azriel, I’m right here…”

He shakes his head. “You shouldn’t have come out here.”

You peer up at him, staring at his beautiful features. How could you ever run away from him?

Gently, you pry your hands beneath his own, linking your fingertips together. Step back a little. “Maybe I was trying to escape,” you taunt softly. “Maybe I’ve gotten bored of you, and want something else.” His face goes white with rage, and you spin on your feet, turning to run for the house.

You don’t even get a single step before his hand has brutally gripped the base of your neck, yanking you back to him. You whimper at the roughness, and he marks the sound eagerly. “Want to repeat that, pet?” He growls quietly, keeping you pinned to the spot.

Teeth prod into your lower lip, his gaze darkening.

“Maybe I was trying to run away,” you repeat, skin prickling beneath the intensity of his attention. Centuries of predatory training zeroing in, on you. “Are you trying to provoke me? Is that it?” He snarls. “Think that’s a good idea, pet?”

“I’m not your pet, Azriel.”

His eyes gleam with cold fury, anticipation burning icily. “No?”

You shake your head. “No.”

Canines flash beneath the moonlight, and then his shadows have encompassed you. The weightless sensation overtakes you, then your feet are again on firm ground. You flinch as something leathery wraps around your throat, tightening until it fits snugly. A collar.

Metal snaps, and you know he’s just clipped on the lead.

Azriel gives a firm tug, making you stumble forward, hissing at the pressure around your throat.

“I think someone’s gotten too comfortable with her position,” he growls lowly, jaw tense, shadows thick and writhing at your feet. “Needs some reminding who’s in charge of her, huh?” A shiver trills down your spine, and you press your bare thighs together. Needing the friction. “Isn’t that right?”

The tears arise on their own, barely even needing to be summoned.

His grip tightens on the leash, eyes flickering with arousal at the sight of your damp lashes. “If you don’t want your role of pet, then by all means, spit on it,” he drawls softly. Menacingly. “Entitled brat, aren’t you?”

He lands a harsh slap to your cheek, tugging roughly on the lead again to keep you steady. “If you won’t comply as a pet,” he snarls softly, “then you’ll obey as a slave.”

A whimper slips from your lips at that, heat turning liquid in you belly. His brow quirks, lips tilting up at their edges, “like that?” Breath trembles from your lips, legs turning weak with arousal.

“Azriel…” you whisper desperately. The heat is too much. You need him to relieve it.

“So desperate,” he laughs softly. “I haven’t even begun on you.”

Then he’s roughly guiding you back, shoving you against a wooden wall, shackling your wrists in chains, shadows copying the movement on your ankles. The leash hangs limp as he steps away, brushing over your breasts, grazing your thighs, and you bow from the board.

Azriel tuts lowly, retreating into the dark dungeon-like basement, allowing his shadows to play with you in the meantime. They skate up your thighs, wrapping over your hips, slithering up your spine. Gliding beneath your shirt. Pinching your nipples.

A breathless whimper slips from your lips as they twist and flick, pressing against the teal silk between your legs. Winding with enough pressure to feel good, but not enough to give any meaningful stimulation. Head tips back against the wall, eyes fluttering closed as they teasingly circle your clit, more grazing your stomach, keeping you confused from where they’ll next come from.

Your lips part, hips trying to grind down upon them, but they move with you, refusing to come any closer. You nearly cry out in desperation.

You flinch when scarred fingers roughly push aside your soaked underwear, running something rubbery but firm through the wetness. Coating it. You attempt to peer down, but can’t get a good glimpse. Can hardly think straight with how desperately you need him.

Breath is shoved from your lungs as he pushes the object inside of you. Dreadfully slowly. In and out. A few inches at a time. When it’s fully in, he moves your underwear back into place, roughly tugging the strings further up your hips, shoving the toy deeper.

A moan bursts from your lips, spine arching from the circular board as you tighten around it, trying to keep it pressing against that wonderful spot.

“I was saving this for a reward,” he murmurs beside your ear, fingers between your legs, prone to push it further inside. “But I suppose it can double as a punishment, huh?”

Pleasure weighs on your eyelids, barely able to keep them open long enough to look at him. “Can you even remember my name, slave?” He asks, amusement clear in his question. You blink wearily up at him, begging for stimulation. All you get is a rough pat on the cheek, followed by his fingers pressing the toy up into you.

A strangled moan arises from your throat, teeth sinking into your lower lip as you try to silence yourself. He jerks roughly on your leash in reprimand. “None of that,” he tuts, gripping you jaw so you’re forced to look at him. “I want to enjoy this.”

Then he retreats again, and you sink into the wooden board, weight resting heavily on your arms that are still pulled taut either side of your head.

“Eyes up here,” he commands, a sultry roughness to his order. Heat buzzes between your thighs, but you force yourself to meet his gaze. And you nearly forget how to breathe.

Cold, hard steel catches the dim light. No more than an elegant slice of silver amongst his shadows. Azriel’s lips twist into a smile, deftly spinning the short blade in his hands, skilled with practice, flexible with familiarity. There are more at his side, piled on a table, all the size of small daggers.

“Azriel,” you breathe. “What—”

The blade flies from his hand, embedding in the wood to the right of your body. Too close for comfort. Especially because you know he could hit you if he really wanted, and you don’t know how close he’s willing to get to satisfy his desires. You cringe away from the Illyrian steel, but the chains hold you fast, keeping you pinned to the wall like an insect to a dissection table. Ready for him to play with; experiment on.

“Better keep still,” he mocks, picking up another dagger. “Unless you want a few scars to show for later?” His lips twist into a wider smile, “a reminder of your disobedience, perhaps?” The blade flies, lodging in the wood a few centimetres above your head. You yelp, dipping your head as your blood runs cold.

Another dagger has already left his hands before you can look up, slamming into the wood beside your right breast. A puff of cold air hisses at the skin, practically able to feel the blade if you tip your body a little to the right. It’s piercing the cloth of your top, just another restriction to your movement.

Azriel laughs, flipping a blade in his hand, marking your aroused discomfort. How you squirm.

“Do you regret sneaking out yet? In the night, where anything could have happened to you?” He asks, shoulders tensing at the reminder. “Do you understand how weak you are, huh? How delicate?” He throws another blade, this one nicking your cheek, as if to demonstrate how easily you can be hurt. A whimper is strung from your lips, the light stinging making you want to pull your thighs together.

“Mm sorry,” you breathe, lower lip wobbling. “Mm sorry, Azriel…”

He laughs at that, “better.”

Picks up another dagger. “But too late.”

Steel slices against your hip, slicing the teal string on your underwear, exposing your skin as blood beads delicately. Azriel licks his lips at the sight, a quick flick of his tongue that has you fantasising about everything else he could be doing to you. “Azriel please,” you whimper, vision blurring. “I didn’t mean to upset you… Wanted to make it fun.”

A rough chuckle sounds, the metallic scape of yet another blade sliding into his hand, “I’m having plenty of fun.” Steel flashes in the dim light, making you squint. “Are you not enjoying this?” Teeth push into your lower lip, blinking away the dampness, “want you, instead.” Azriel’s lips quirk, taking in the way your hips shift, tightening around the toy needfully. He targets the other string flawlessly, rewarding you with a matching nick to your hip.

“Yeah? You want me to be inside of you rather than that?” He asks, pleased with your answer. Though not satisfied enough to give you what you want. “Want me to unchain you so I can stuff you with my cock instead? Fuck you ’til you’re going limp in my arms? Is that what you’d like?”

“Yes!” You pant, tightening around the toy desperately. You’re so wet it’s slipping out, no longer kept tucked inside by your underwear.

“Azriel…! Azriel, I can’t— Az!”

Wood splinters as he targets just between your thighs, a breath below your skin. The toy perches atop the flat of the blade—having been thrown sideways. Your chest rises up and down, sweat making your skin gleam in the dim light. Things tremble, weak from the wild ride, adrenaline singing in your blood.

Light catches on his canines as he grins, slightly feral, slowly prowling toward you. “So obedient, aren’t you?” He drawls, towering over you as he rests his hands atop the circular board. Your spine bows from the wood, arching in attempts to get the toy to touch more of those sensitive spots. His grin widens, “want it a little deeper?” He asks mockingly, eyes gleaming with dark pleasure. You nod your head, cheeks hot like the rest of your body.

Teeth flash in the light, and he applies pressure to the board.

You scream as you’re spun upside down, so your head is in line with his boots, feet in the air. Dizziness crashes into you, tipping your sense of balance, warping your sense of direction as he laughs distantly. Fingertips brush down your inner thigh, dancing over the skin, breath grazing teasingly.

“So desperate,” he drawls. “Can you beg for it, hm? Think you can string the words together for me?” You blink hazily as he crouches down, peering at your confused form.

“Azriel…” you manage, then squeeze your eyes shut at the pressure. So hot. Blood rushing downward. “Azriel, please…”

“Please what?” He asks leisurely. “What do you want me to do, pet?” His thumb brushes over your lower lip, pulling it from your teeth, small scars from where you’ve bitten over the years indented into the pillowy flesh. He grins, leaning forward.

A deluded moan drags from your throat as he presses his canines into your upper lip, tugging on it slightly. Your hands pull on the chains, desperate to touch him as he plays with you, toy beginning to sink back in, but it’s neither fast, nor deep enough.

“Put it in me,” you beg, features scrunching with desperation, eyes squeezing shut against the pressure, brows furrowing. “Azriel, please…put it deeper.” Canines pierce your lip, something thick and rich bleeding onto your teeth, then he’s lapping it up. Landing a rewarding smack to your cheek before he stands. “That’s better,” he chuckles, finger brushing between your thighs, making to push them apart. “That’s much better.”

Breath drains from your lungs as he pushes the toy all the way in, gravity helping it sink deep into your heat. Hot liquid spills, dripping from your eyes up over your brows, trickling into your hair. Knees shake, hips bucking as he keeps the toy pressed inside of you, enjoying the view. “You having fun? Enjoying this?”

He pushes against the toy, making so it presses more into one side, circling the pressure, making you weep. “Yes,” you moan, “yes, yes, yes.”

Azriel halts his movements.

Before you know it he’s landed a smack to your clit.

You squeak, jerking against the shackles, to no avail. “Why the fuck are you enjoying it, huh?” He spits, landing another smack to your tender sex. “Did you forget this is supposed to be a punishment? You’re not meant to enjoy it.” Another smack, and tears slide up over your face, saliva wetting the corners of your mouth as you weep.

“No, we can’t have that, can we?” He mutters, grinning to himself as he smacks harder, making you scream, muscles flinching as you writhe against the chains. “How will you learn your lesson if it doesn’t hurt, huh?”

“Please, please, please! I’ve learnt it! I know better!” You cry out, hands balling into fists against the stimulation.

Relief sweeps in as he hold off for a moment, “is that right? Think you’ve learned? Think you know better now?” He presses the toy back in, having been slightly pushed out when you were tensing for impact. You nod your head frantically, “I swear! I’ll never do it again— Please, Azriel!”

He hums to himself, sounding satisfied. Leaning down, his mouth latches over your cunt, tongue flicking over your clit soothingly. Tasting your arousal. Azriel groans at the flavour, sealing his lips over your tender sex, suckling gently, wet muscle teasing the taut bud eagerly. Scarred hands grip behind your thighs, holding you still as you try to buck for more.

You’re murmuring prayers under your breath, chanting them desperately as he plays with you, a cat toying with its mouse—batting it back and forth between its paws. He changes the angle of the toy, and your mouth drops open, silent moans being drawn out, one after the other as pleasure builds and coils in the pit of your stomach.

But then he’s pulling away, leaving you hot and messy, slick coating the skin of your thighs, sex soft and tender from his brutal attention. Heart pounds in your chest as he unlocks your ankles, shadows keeping you pinned to the board as he does the same for your wrists. “Think we’re done, pet?” He murmurs, allowing your body to carefully fold over itself, so you tip over, shadows making sure you don’t hurt yourself as you land on the floor.

Your head is spinning from the movement, cunt aching for more attention, and your legs automatically spread as you attempt to push the toy back inside. Grinding against the floor, but it’s too low, too far away, and your thighs won’t spread wide enough. Whimpers spill from your lips in frustration, wanting that pleasure, riled up from the phantom lick of his tongue over your clit. How good it felt.

Azriel growls roughly, shadows collecting your leash, returning it to his hand as he tugs roughly, drawing your attention back to him, instead of the toy you’re pitifully trying to steal your pleasure from. “Come here,” he orders sharply, again tugging on your collar, causing you to choke.

Clumsily, you crawl forward, stopping to kneel before him.

“Feeling good, slave?” He asks, keeping your leash taut so you’re forced to tilt your chin upward, peering at his towering frame. You dip your head mindlessly, too dizzy and yearning for pleasure to properly think. He chuckles, “yeah? You liked that?” Again you nod, lips parting as your hand slips between your legs to press the toy back inside. Fingers come away wet, slick dripping down and onto the floor.

“But you still need more, don’t you?” He purrs, hazel eyes gleaming in the dim light, “so greedy. Greedy and gluttonous. Such a brat.” Whimpers drag from your lips, nodding your head dumbly along with everything he’s saying. He chuckles at you.

“Want to feel good now?” He asks, shadows cupping your jaw to keep your attention on him. When you don’t answer, he smacks you, cheek stinging with the impact. “Answer. Or do you want me to chain you back up and give that little cunt some rougher treatment?” Your eyes nearly roll to the back of your skull, but you shake your head in apology. “Mm sorry…please don’t…want to feel good, please…”

His lips quirk—he has you wrapped around his finger. Your pleasure dependant on him. You need him. Without him, you can never feel good.

Azriel takes pity on you, large hand landing atop your head, threading through your hair. “You’re going to be good? Gonna be good for me now?” He asks, grinning when you nod eagerly. Eyes gleam maliciously, and he tugs on your collar, pulling you flush against his leg, arms clinging onto him for stability.

“Go on then,” he urges, shifting one foot to be between your thighs, knocking your knees further apart. “Take your pleasure.”

Relief crashes into you, and you move to pull away, wanting to lie on your back—give him a nice view; a performance as you bring yourself over the edge. Only with his permission, of course.

You whimper when he tugs on your collar, making you peer up at him desperately, questioningly. Lips tip into a smirk as he taps his boot against the floor expectantly. “Go on,” he repeats softly, mockingly. “Take it.”

Teeth sink into your lower lip, hands gripping onto him desperately as your thighs spread, the toy settling against the leather. You lean your weight onto it. Eyes roll back, heat flushing your skin, taking inch after inch. His grip tightens in your hair, hand curling into a fist as he keeps your head tilted upward—so he can watch your blissed out expression as your features contort. All because of him.

Male satisfaction licks up his spine, cock stiffening in his trousers, rubbing against the seam.

You’ve already been worked to the brink, coil so close to snapping, it’ll take minimal effort to bring you that ocean of pleasure. Slowly, you wind your hips over him, unable to do much more with the depth of the stimulation, how deep the goodness is sinking. You wish it was his cock, wish his hands were roughly gripping your hips, arms bound behind your back so you’re completely at his mercy.

Speed up the motions, hips bucking as you grip onto him desperately, his hand fisted in your hair. Azriel watches as you tug your lip between your teeth, brows curving upward, drool shining at the edges of your mouth. Cheeks and lashes damp with tears. Skin hot to the touch. Lips part in pleasure, tongue flicking out briefly. “That’s it,” he goads, shadows gripping your hips to urge you on. “That’s it, take it. Take it from me. Be a good girl and take your pleasure.”

Eyes roll back, lids fluttering as you press your chest flush against him, gripping onto the muscle of his thigh as your hips drag back and forth in sharp, sporadic jerks. “Go on, a little more— That’s it. So good. So good, aren’t you? So well behaved.” The praise sings down your spine, and pleasure bursts across your skin, fracturing your conscious. Hips buck wildly, almost automatically, riding out the euphoria, his fist tightening in your hair. Keeping you still so he can watch as you cum.

His name chants on your lips over and over, eyes filling with tears at the pleasure as you press tighter to him, clinging onto him like he’s some kind of prophet. Some kind of saviour. You bow into his touch, desperate for more, to have more of his skin against your own.

“Azriel…” you moan.

It’s the sweetest sound he’s ever heard. Never failing to make him dizzy with lust, enraptured with the movements of your body, how you’re kneeling and riding him so desperately. Like you really do need him. His temperature rises.

The aftershocks fade, leaving you panting quietly, relaxing your body, shifting off his boot. Thin strands of silvery slick connect the leather to your cunt, creating a sloppy mess. Azriel tuts softly, arousal zapping straight to your clit at the sound alone. “What a mess you’ve made,” he drawls, hand having released your hair. “Gotten my boot all dirty, haven’t you? What a filthy thing you are.”

Colour tints his skin, clearly pleased with the results—how wet you are.

“Think I should make you clean it up, huh?” He jerks on your leash, shadows tightening the pressure of your collar ever so deliciously. “Make you lick it up with that filthy mouth of yours?” He drawls, enjoying the idea. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips, and he chuckles. “No…I think you’d like that too much. Pretty whore.”

A lovely whimper is drawn from your chest as he releases your collar in favour of tossing you over his shoulder, shadows keeping the toy tucked comfortably inside of you. You whine and writhe against him, wanting to feel more of him, have more of him. He lands a harsh spank to your backside, making you yelp, then wiggle more.

Azriel laughs lowly at your antics, rewarding your struggle with a harder smack, leaving the skin stinging in his wake. He carries you all the way through your shared home, taking you up each flight of stairs, leading you up from the basement and into your bedroom. Gently lowers you down his body as he sits, toy still tucked away deep inside. Legs spread over his lap, his arm winding around your waist to keep your chest flush against him.

Fingers thread through your hair, jerking your head back so he can stare you down, those hazel eyes enough to have arousal gathering all over again as you anticipate the awful things he’s going to do to you. “You regret going outside, don’t you, pet. Not going to do it again.” You nod your head along with him, showing you’re sorry. His mouth slides wide in a vulpine smile, “but what about those other things you said, huh? Think I’m just going to let those go?”

You whimper, rolling your hips against him, pleading for him to get inside of you. Fill you up.

He laughs darkly at your attempts to distract him, bucking up against you—let you think he’s forgiven you. But his hold remains tight in your hair, and he watches you swallow against the collar, shadows unclipping the leash. “You said something cruel to me earlier. Do you remember what it was?” He asks, smiling as you struggle and squirm in his lap. Shake your head in response.

Azriel hums, hand moving to grip your throat lightly, holding you gently between his fingers. “You said you wanted to look for something else. That you’d gotten bored, and you wanted something better.” The grip tightens, not enough to make you choke, but enough for you to feel the pressure. You squirm more, shaking your head in denial. “I didn’t mean it…” you beg, hands desperate to touch him, to hold him.

He tilts his head in mock concern, “no? You were lying?”

Teeth bite into your lip, dipping your head in confirmation.

Lips quirk. “That right? You’re a dirty little liar?”

Vision blurs, but you nod, grinding down on him in attempts to make reparations.

He chuckles lowly, deep in his throat. “You made me very upset with that comment. Made me think you wanted someone else. That I wasn’t good enough for you.” He grips harder, breath rasping out, pulling your mouth to brush against his own. “Am I good enough for you, pet?”

“Yes,” you whisper, trying to nod your head. “You’re so good. So good to me, Azriel. So perfect.”

One of his brows quirks. “Perfect? I don’t know about that, pet.”

“You are,” you insist, hardly more than a whine. “Best thing in the world. You’re perfect. Everything.” Lips part in a grin that’s filled with male satisfaction. He releases your throat, in favour of going to his belt. “Want to show me how perfect I am, pet?”

Heat washes down your spine, and you’re nodding frantically, quickly shuffling down his body as he pulls himself free of his leathers. You stare up from between his legs, knelt on the ground, the toy still tucked away, balancing on the wooden boards. Mouth waters as he touches himself, beautiful skin tinted with colour, flushed with arousal.

You don’t notice his shadows slinking away, trailing back down to the basement.

A hand slides through your hair, and it’s all the encouragement you need to be rising up—feet keeping the toy nice and deep—following his silent instruction. You open your mouth over him, and he groans from the back of his throat. You could cry at the taste of him, how right it feels to have him on your tongue, pushing your jaw lower. How lovely his skin is, so soft, and hot. Slightly salty, and tasing so distinctly of himself.

Fingers slip between your legs, rolling over your clit, tightening around the toy.

“That’s a good girl,” he drawls, pushing you down onto his cock, hips bucking upward. “So good. So good at making me feel good. What you were made for. Isn’t that right, pet?” You moan onto him, grinding down, fingers flicking and rolling over the sensitive bud.

Free hand grips his base, pumping what you can’t fit, tongue flicking over the slit in his head. Landing soft kisses to it, and the space just below, suckling lightly, before taking him entirely again. As entirely as you can, anyway.

Enjoying the process, saliva dripping from your mouth, lubricating the slide up and down. How he sometimes cuts off your airways if you take him too far down. How he twitches in response to the slight gags. Loving every second of it.

“Choose a number between one and five,” he orders lowly.

Brow narrows as you make to pull up, but his hand is already resting at the back of your head in warning. You still as his tip, tongue circling again, then you dip as far down as you can go. One…two…three times.

Azriel hums, then a faint clicking noise sounds through the room.

You writhe, muscles spasming, trying to tug away from him as the vibrations hit your sensitive walls. His hand keeps you in place, shadows returning from their adventure down to the basement. Eyes squeeze shut at the pleasure, the stimulation, and the darkness wraps around the base of the toy, slowly beginning to drag it in and out.

Tears build at your lashes, and you take him back down your throat eagerly, spine arching so it touches all kinds of spots. Azriel laughs softly as he watches you, how easily you bend to his will, curving and arching to fit to the shape of his pleasure. Stroking himself through the skin of your cheek, thumb skimming gently.

Another click sounds, and the vibrations change to a steady pulse rhythm, conditioning you to tighten moments after the sensation. His shadows pick up speed, pushing in faster, and harder. Free hand leaves from between your legs to grip onto him, having to steady yourself from the stimulation.

You moan again and again onto his cock, wanting him to feel as good as you are, lapping at the salty moisture that gathers at his tip. Darkness replaces your fingers, playing with your clit, running in tight, repetitive circles, making the pressure in the pit of your belly double…coil over itself again and again.

“That’s good,” he encourages, breathlessly, getting off on seeing how desperate you are. How your hips push back against his shadows, how you moan onto him, dripping onto the floor. “Keep going, pet. Making me feel so good. Show me how much you love me. Worship everything you can get that lying fucking mouth of yours on,” he snarls roughly.

Heat builds at the degradation, coil tightening as you take him as far as you can, nails biting into his leathers as you push your limits. His shadows work in tandem to your efforts, licking over your clit, flicking and swirling over your nipples, tugging on them lightly. Pinching, like he’s attached clips to them. He knows how sensitive you are…all those secret spots he’d discovered.

Azriel curses under his breath, low and vicious. “Do you remember how hard you tried to escape me that first time, pet? How you cried, and screamed? Screamed until that lovely throat of yours was raw?” He drawls, bucking his hips in time with the thrusts of the toy, vibrations making you see stars.

All you can manage is a heady moan, tears dripping down from pleasure, nearly numb with euphoria.

“And look at you now,” he laughs breathlessly, “all good and broken in. Told you I’d have you trained. But you didn’t believe me, did you? Thought you’d make it, huh?” Arousal sparks in the pit of your belly, and you widen the stance of your legs, spreading your thighs to allow it to hit deeper. And it does. It does so well.

Eyes roll back into your skull, hands trembling with the force of your orgasm. He twitches in your mouth at the pure pleasure in your scent, how overpowering it is. Strong enough to tip him into his own high.

Liquid pleasure spills into your mouth, and you nearly go mad. His taste coats your tongue, spurting hot between your lips, spilling down your throat as you lick and lap and suck: worshipping as he’d told you to.

Shadows tighten around your clit, pinching your nipples, tugging on them as he targets every part that you love, succinctly and with mind-breaking accuracy. Practiced precision.

Pleasure overwhelms you, feeling so wonderful as the vibrations crash into you over and over, made stronger as your sensitive walls flutter around the toy, clamping down, forcing it tighter.

The last thing you remember is how he’d pulled you from his cock, spit and cum mixing together to create silvery, milky threads, making your lips glisten. The way those last few spurts had decorated your cheeks, nose and mouth, marking you as his own.

And then your world dimmed, winking out.

————

He continues working on you long after you pass out, grinding his hips sloppily against your own. When you’re passed out, and unaware, you’re inanimate. A pretty accessory for his cock.

Cum gleams over your abdomen, cunt glistening from hours of use, release mixed with your slick. Even while you’re asleep, your body continues to please him, urging him to continue, to pursue that sick pleasure.

Azriel doesn’t mind how unresponsive you are; he gets to paint you as he pleases.

His fingers graze softly over your abdomen, muscle fluttering beneath the teasing brush, tensing as they glide through cum. He groans, cock stiffening expectantly as he scoops release up from your cunt, gathering loadfuls before raising them to your lips. He twitches as the milky liquid splatters over your mouth, trickling over your tongue, making you wake suddenly. Spluttering as he touches the back of your throat.

The scent of his arousal spears into your mind, and your body heats in response, so ready for him to work on you. So ready to submit. Tongue plays with his taste, peering down at yourself as sensations crest over you.

Azriel sits back patiently, allowing you time to catalogue the bruises; the devastation.

Bite-marks litter your thighs, the indentation of his teeth stamped so deep you hope it scars. Bruises hurt on your throat and collar bones, on the space beneath your jaw, and you raise your fingers to brush the intimate skin. Your breasts ache, and you know he’s been having fun with them: pinching, flicking, biting. Suckling the sensitive peaks while he no doubt stuffed you full, cock buried deep inside your tender sex.

Whimpers draw from your lips as you take in the results of his desire—how he’s inflicted his hunger upon your body. How he’ll continue to abuse every spot he likes until… There is no end.

Tongue flicks over your lips, and you settle onto your hands and knees, crawling to him. He may have removed the leash, but he’s still dragging you forward, invisibly connected to him.

“Azriel…” his name rasps from your lips, throat raw from use, need scraping against your skin. Hazel eyes gleam as he watches you crawl forward on shaky limbs—how you drag your tongue up the underside of his cock, set on worshipping him with as much devotion as he does with you. A quiet groan falls from his mouth as you rise up his body, breasts dragging over his chest. He doesn’t miss the flicker of pain across your features as they scrunch, how reactive you are, so sensitive to touch now you’ve been given chance to recover.

Mouth opens over his own, sharing the erotic taste of him across his tongue, revelling in how it strokes against yours. His hands lightly grip your waist, fitting perfectly over the already formed bruises, sliding into place. Tenderly, his tongue flicks out over your lower lip, lapping up his cum from your skin, gathering it in his mouth as his hand slides lower, fingers dragging over your entrance to collect your wetness.

Pleasure lights your body as he laps at his own fingers, indulging in your flavour.

His large hand grips your jaw gently, tipping you upward so you’re facing him. Taps the skin of your cheek twice with the pad of his forefinger. Open.

Hot liquid bubbles in your abdomen as he spits between your parted lips, digits sliding in soon after to press his taste into your tongue; mark every part of you with his scent, until you’re covered in him. You whimper around his fingers, hand wrapping around his cock as you move to pleasure him.

Azriel snarls softly over your mouth, and you retract your touch—even as he pulls you flush against his torso, cock pressing into your tummy so tantalisingly. Teasingly. You whine.

“Azriel…” you breathe, words muffled from his fingers, and pride flickers in his gaze. “What is it?” He asks softly, lips lifting at the edges. You could sigh with relief at that expression; you know what it means. It means lazy, leisurely. It means taking his time—gently, subtle bucks of his hips to stimulate you slowly. Warm you up again.

“I want you,” you plead, hands pressing to his chest. He allows you to guide him back, wings flaring as they press into the mattress. “You’ve had me all night,” he smirks, pleased you’re craving him as intensely as he is you. Mutual obsession. Tangible need.

“It’s not enough,” you mumble, hands skimming the tops of his thighs, eyes torn between laying on his own, and lapping up more of his cock. “I need to have you inside me.” Cock twitches, and you tighten in response, thighs parting over his hips, settling so you’re atop him. “You’ve had me inside you plenty of times tonight,” he reminds softly, eyes glazing with lust, darkening as his hand brushes your abdomen. Knowing how much cum he’s pumped int you.

Lower lip pushes out, brows curving together, “you know that doesn’t count.” Fingers press into the padded muscle of his stomach, slicked with sweat, and you want to trace each one with your tongue. “Want to have you inside, and to feel it,” you moan, guiding his tip to your entrance.

Azriel watches, entranced. Once again reminded at how obedient you’ve become.

“Open your mouth.”

You do so without question.

Lips fashion themselves into a smile. “Close.”

Your mouth closes.

“Good girl.”

Heat flutters between your legs.

Hands gently span your waist, urging you to sink your weight onto him, settle on his cock. You oblige happily.

Eyes roll back into your skull, and you hear him murmur soft words of reassurance under his breath as you sway. Temporarily rendered immobile. He steadies you, waiting for you to be ready for stimulation.

He’s had his fun, had his time to play with your body. Find his pleasure in it. He knows it’s your turn, and he’s happy to let you have it. You’ve worked hard for him, satisfied him repeatedly. Now he wants you to explore him all over again, swirl your hips until you find a pace you like, touch yourself as you want while he supports from the background.

You do just that.

Slowly, you lift off him, thighs trembling with the effort. Then you slide back down, feeling the push of his hip bone digging into the softness of your flesh. Thoughts block out of your mind, pushed away by his cock as it presses into your sensitive walls; quiet whimpers cry from your chest.

Legs shift out from under you as you yield control, unable to lever yourself up and down as you fully rest your weight on him. Leaning back against his legs, bent at the knee to support you, your eyes fluter closed, content to bask in the fullness of him.

His shadows stroke over your head, providing the comfort you seek. Warmth floods your chest at his caring nature.

“Azriel?” You mumble softly, words subdued under the weight of pleasure. He hums quietly in response, hands grazing the tops of your thighs as he watches you. “Tell me a story,” you request.

A chuckle rumbles out of him, and you feel it warm your insides, making you tighten around him. “What sort of story do you want, pretty thing?” You could melt at the nickname. Reduce yourself to liquid to splash all over him, saturate his skin.

Teeth bite into the pillowy silkiness of your lower lip, toes curling as you drag your hips forward by a few centimetres. “Tell me how you fell in love with me,” you request softly. Hands settle at your waist, heating your sides, thumbing the skin softly. “Tell me every thought you had… Every moment you watched me… Tell me all of it.”

“It’s a long and dreadful tale I’m afraid,” he laughs deeply, “I think it would sour the mood.”

“Then tell me one that won’t,” you breathe. “I want to know you more. Want to know everything.” His cock touches a lovely place inside of you, and you focus on softly targeting it, rolling your hips over him.

Azriel pauses, and even with your eyes closed you can feel the weight of his gaze, how assuring it is; how adoring. “Okay,” he sighs, giving in, stroking your thighs, “just one.”

Your lips tip at the edge, one set of fingers linking with his own as he squeezes back.

“It was pretty early on—before I really grasped how deep the obsession ran,” he begins, the rough timbre of his voice curling your toes. “I spotted you coming back from a night out. You were clearly drunk, and stumbling all over the place—I was surprised you made it to your door without falling flat on your face,” he says, fingers tracing patters across your skin.

“I remember knowing you hadn’t locked your door, and I was angry. Angry you didn’t take care of yourself. For being so reckless,” he continues, tapping lightly at your inner thigh—reprimanding you for all those decades ago. Nearly seventy years past since that infatuation took root. “I remember thinking I should use my shadows to give you a scare. Teach you a lesson for being so unaware. You desperately needed to learn to protect yourself, and you weren’t going to start unless something pushed you into action,” he laughs, realising how firmly in your thrall he’d been even back then. Before he was even fully aware of it.

“But when my shadows got inside, you were already undressing, and I couldn’t move.”

Eyes flutter open, and you meet his dark hazel gaze, something far deeper than love dancing in his features. Something bordering on violent, glittering with possession. Protection.

“I doubt you even noticed how dark it got in your room that night, despite the faelight,” he says softly, and your pulse spikes, knowing how closely he watched over you for all those years. How protective he is by nature. “I later learned whenever you came back like that, it often meant whoever you’d chosen for the night hadn’t be worth it, choosing to stumble back to your own bed rather than wake up in theirs.” Again those impatient taps to your thigh, and your hips roll in response, soothing both of you.

“It was the first night I saw you touch yourself. And it felt wrong to watch, but you were so fascinating. I’d never seen someone enjoy themselves purely for their own satisfaction. With partners, or workers in brothels, they’re aware they’re expected to put on a show. They emphasise movements to an obscene, unbelievable degree, while you were calm and quiet.” You swirl over him, vaguely managing to call up a murky image of your bedroom. Picturing the darkness that filled it, and you hadn’t even noticed.

Maybe you’d known, innately, he was not there to harm you, but to love you.

“It was entirely solitary; a completely private moment I was witnessing, and it was an unimaginable weight off my shoulders,” he says, circling the tops of your thighs, heat building and coiling in the pit of your belly. “For those few hours, I was no one. Gloriously free to simply observe,” his lips quirk ruefully. “Until it wasn’t enough to just watch.”

Breathing shallows, chest rising up and down with anticipation. Wanting to know where he took the irreversible step from the light. Straying from his own path, to collide with yours.

“You came back again, drunk and stumbling over yourself, and I knew enough by this point to know you wouldn’t remember a thing,” he says, voice growing softer with each confession. “So that night, when you were on the cusp of sleep, I helped push you over the edge.”

“You didn’t even struggle,” he murmurs, breathless. “Didn’t even try to put up a fight. Just waited patiently as I pushed your legs apart; pulled the silk from your hips. So lovely and docile. So perfect.” Colour flushes his skin and he can’t help the slight buck as he presses himself deeper into your cunt.

“Go on,” you urge, panting quietly. “Tell me more.”

A phantom smile plays on his mouth as he remembers, “there were moments I think you may have fallen asleep, then woken up when your body remembered what was happening. Like you were desperately fighting it off for me, trying to be there for me.” He huffs a laugh, squeezing your hand.

“I remember how you arched at the first stroke of my tongue, how your fingers tightened in the sheets, like you wanted to touch me but didn’t have the energy to manage. So I held you with one hand, just like this. To make sure you didn’t suddenly jolt awake; that you felt comfortable. So your body wouldn’t warn you about the violation.”

“You were nearly perfect, except you didn’t know how to attribute the pleasure, so you didn’t call out my name when you came on my tongue. I watched you writhe, how your eyes widened then slammed shut, squeezing together as you gripped my hand though it all. Like you were worried you’d be washed away in the torrent. You were absolutely breathtaking in that moment; every moment after.”

“That night you became mine. You never knew—I suppose until now—but you responded to me that night. You felt it. I know you did. Your body reacted to me, and you squeezed me back. Despite the scarring, and the burns. You held on like you needed me,” he breathes, panting deeply as his stomach muscles flex in the dim light, sweat glistening across his skin.

“You claimed me too, that night. And I couldn’t resist going back.”

“I think you grew to expect me. You would return from a night out reeking of alcohol, get inside your home, pass out on your bed, and within a few minutes, you would be soaked. Dripping onto your sheets, waiting for me. Spread out and perfect. You wanted me as much as I wanted you, yet you didn’t even know who I was.” His hand squeezes yours, and you know you won’t hold on much longer.

“I tried to stay away. For months I would be off in another court, and you consumed me. At night I would lie awake, thinking about you, wondering if you were lying in your own bed, cunt dripping for me, waiting for me to soothe the ache. Sometimes I would be gone for so long your body forgot how to behave when I returned.” His words grow rougher, more agitated.

“So I made sure you remembered.”

“That first week when I returned from a mission, I wouldn’t sleep. I spent my time watching you, shadows happy to play with you again—they’ve always liked you more than anyone else. But you know that now, don’t you.”

As if listening in—which they very well might have been—the darkness writhes at your back, cresting over your shoulders and cupping your breasts delicately, swiping over your lips as you tip back into them.

“Sometimes it was nearly impossible to pull them off you. They would constrict around your thighs, tighten around your hips so you were secure beneath them. I quickly lost count of how many times they would want a turn with you, so I would let them,” he breathes, and you can feel that coil on the verge of snapping, heat sizzling beneath your skin as you squeeze him desperately. “You responded so beautifully to their kind of stimulation. And I would watch all of it.”

“Admittedly, I was a little careless. But you never noticed, so I suppose it doesn’t matter if I was a little sloppy here and there. If I got you a little messy, too.”

“It was rare I would be gone for longer than three or four months at a time, but when those longer missions called, I would rush back to you the moment I could.” A twinge of pain has entered his voice, thinking back on how long he had to keep his love for you a secret. How you were carefully shielded from it. For years. Decades.

“And sometimes I didn’t want you to wake clean of any marks of my own. If you weren’t even going to remember, then I might as well leave some trace,” he laughs sharply, arousal dumbing your mind as his words begin to mellow out. “But those never bothered you either. Not the bite marks, or the bruises, or the ache when you thought you hadn’t taken anyone to bed that night. Not even when you woke to find cum between your legs. Or a faint taste in your mouth.”

He sighs, bucking his hips softly, and you exhale heavily.

“Did you ever fuck me?” You breathe, tightening around him at the thought. “While I was asleep, I mean. Did you ever take me before I knew you?”

Azriel shakes his head, smiling now. “No, lovely girl. I wanted to save that for you. I wanted to be with you, and for you to be fully aware when I first went inside of you. And it was torture waiting. It was cruel to make me wait all those years. All that time, and yet you never picked up on that other scent that would consistently turn up on you. Maybe you grew accustomed to it.”

Teeth push into your lower lip, and you tuck your legs back under you, once again able to move.

“The first time I had you…I’ll never forget it,” he groans, hand releasing yours in favour of gripping your hips. “You screamed so sweetly. Begged me to stop, like you hadn’t been asking for it for decades. How you were able to scream at me to stop when your legs would practically fall open for me…” he laughs, and you buck over him, quickening the pace of your swirls.

“You took me as well as I knew you would,” he groans, hands helping you rise and fall on his cock. “Took everything perfectly. Even my blade.”

Your eyes roll back, and you allow him to take control, gripping your hips tight to pound in to you. “It was just supposed to warm you up. To stretch you out so we could both enjoy it when I entered you… But then you reacted so well to it, and you had to have an orgasm before you took me. And you looked so fucking edible.” He grits out the words, and your hips stutter, jerking as pleasure brims at your lashes.

“Azriel…” you pant, tears spilling as he hits those beautiful spots, making you bounce on him. “You looked so fucking good I couldn’t believe it. And you felt even better.”

You clamp down on him, taking each buck of his cock as he drives up into you, mind going blank except for his name playing on repeat in your head. Filled with only him entirely. Nothing else would fit inside you anymore. It has to be him.

Hot cum spurts inside, and you can only imagine the mess he’s made in your heat.

How full he’s pumped you; how deep his release is.

How deep he’s burrowed his way inside of you.

Hips slow to a relaxed pace, grinding down onto him, keeping him tucked away inside of you. Refusing to release a single drop as you continue fluttering around him lightly.

Words are far out of reach, but he collects you as you sway forward, blinking away drowsiness as you settle on top of him, nestling into his chest. Nosing at his throat, licking up his flavour.

Azriel laughs quietly from deep in his chest, and it twines with his heartbeat. “You’re perfect…you know that?” Warmth fills your heart as his arms wrap around you, shadows pulling the blankets to cover you, despite being the wrong way up in the bed. What does it matter when he’s around?

“I’m perfect if you’re perfect,” you mumble back, hardly succeeding in keeping your eyes opened.

He doesn’t respond, but you can feel his heart, can hear how it picks up speed, and you know he’s happy.

Hot lips brush your head, pressing kisses into your hair as he keeps it from your face. You burrow into him deeper, pulling the sheets closer as you roll off to his side.

Azriel squeezes you again, making sure you’re as close as can be.

Neither of you would want it any other way.

Taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @amygdtjhddzvb

Az Taglist: @azrielshadows1nger @jurdanpotter @positivewitch

[princess-tulip-writes]

hi! i love your work i was wondering if you could do dark!az smut :) like really angry hate sex yk thanks love 💕

“gods, i fucking hate your guts.”

“you seem to be just fine when i’m inside of them.”

your face heated up even more, and the rage that bubbled inside of you seemed to overflow at his teasing banter.

“fuck you, azriel.” you gritted.

he only smirked at you before caging you into the wall you leaned against, his shadows snaking around your heels and torso as two strong hands planted themselves next to your head.

you were trapped.

he leaned into you, his face going from inches to centimeters away from yours within seconds.

“only if you say please.”

without a second thought, your hand reached up and swiftly slapped his cheek. his head turned violently at the action, and once he figured out what had just happened, his jaw clenched and his eyes darkened.

after only a short second, azriel recollected himself, turning back to your now overly-cocky state with a glimmer of something in his eyes.

pure fucking hatred.

“you little bitch.” he mumbled.

you smirked up at him as a chuckle left your lips at his shocked state. had he not expected you to finally get fed up with his shit? part of you was flabbergasted.

when the sound hit his ears, he raised his eye browa at you expectedly.

“oh, you think this is fucking funny?”

“a little.” you replied, another giggle exiling your lips.

even more anger filled azriel’s lungs, and he thought for sure he couldn’t stop himself from hitting you any longer.

“i’m going to show you what’s fucking funny, you little slut. you just wait.”

—

“yeah, still think it’s funny?”

you nodded your head as best as you could with his cock in your mouth, making sure to keep your eyes locked with his so you don’t get punished again.

at this rate, most of your pride had been taken away from him.

most of it.

except for the proud fact that you slapped azriel shadowsinger. that was still fresh in your mind and a very fond memory of the week.

“you just don’t know when to fucking quit do you?” he growled before roughly pulling you off of his cock by your hair.

a soft moan left your lips at the tug but you weren’t surprised.

“bend over.” he ordered, letting go of you to allow you to do so.

you bent your self over the side of his bed, your hips aligned with the edge of the cushioned mattress. something about being on full display for him built a guilty feeling inside of your gut. you, the right hand man of the autum court, being fucked by your mortal enemy. what would eris say? oh, you knew what the high lord would say, and you prayed to whoever listened that he wouldn’t find out. ever.

“fuck,” he groaned. “how can someone so pretty be such a cunt?”

you rolled your eyes, intending to say something witty back at him but before you could think of anything, his harsh hips clashed into yours.

“oh fuck.” you exclaimed, relieved that you were finally being filled after hours of teasing.

he smirked down at you, a scarred hand reaching out and gripping a hold of your hip, bouncing you back on his cock.

“yeah? feel good doesn’t it whore?”

you nodded vigorously before burying your face deeper into the mattress.

“i wonder what the autumn court would say if they found out how much of a cock slut you are for me.” he chuckled, the image of eris’ face slashing through his head.

what a splendid idea.

“the great y/n l/n; warrior, and best friend of eris vanserra— letting the enemy fuck her?” he teased as his hips violently fucked into yours. “and not just once, or twice, but three times?”

he began to laugh at it, causing a feeling of guilt to wash through you. the tears started to form in your eyes and fall down you cheeks, sobs wracking through you softly.

azriel felt proud about this, watching in marvelous delight as you sobbed ashamedly into his sheets.

“fuck, you’re so pathetic.”

[autumnshighlady]

Run For Your Life

Dark!Azriel x reader

summary: you have a stalker who has been following you for a while, and suddenly things escalate

warnings: DARK DARK DARK FIC! seriously, Az is a psycho stalker, dubious consent, oral sex (m and f receiving), voyeurism, masturbation, violent language, oh did i mention Az is insane in this fic

word count: 7.2k

see the playlist for this fic

this fic is the reason I'm never getting into heaven. y'all better enjoy it. let me know your thoughts! also it's heavily inspired by the book Haunting Adeline, which isn't a good thing haha. also none of this is proofread sorry lmao

DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE

seriously, this is a dark fic. consent is dubious at best, reader is definitely coerced. read at your own risk.

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Darkness began to creep in, the shadow of the mountains swallowing the edges of Velaris. For most people in the city, the evening brought a new sense of life to the community. They’d go out dancing at the various pubs, or browsing the night market in the town square. Shop owners would be headed home to their families, content after a long day’s work. Everyone in Velaris looked forward to the hours after dusk.

Everyone except you.

While the crowds rushed towards the city centre, you went the opposite way towards your house on the edge of town. You hurried down the winding path, the noise from the city growing faint. A cold breeze stung your cheeks, making you walk faster. You clutched your bag tightly to your chest, a faint yet distinct sound of footsteps echoing in your ears.

He knew how to be quiet, yet he was making noise anyway.

Your heart raced as the footsteps grew closer. You didn’t break into a sprint like your instincts screamed at you to. He had never hurt you, never even come close. It was a game he seemingly liked to play with you – make his presence known and set your teeth on edge, creeping closer only to disappear at the last minute. Every time you turned around at the sound of his footsteps, there wasn’t a trace of a person anywhere near you. At first, you thought you were going crazy. But after a few weeks, you realised it was him.

Teeth chattering in the wind, you pushed through the gate to your house. The footsteps behind you had vanished, but you knew he was somewhere nearby. Watching. You could always tell when he was there – the world around you seemed colder, more silent, like the quiet before the breaking of a storm that never came. You would get a chill up your spine, as if invisible shadows were gently licking at your skin. That’s how you knew he was there.

You closed the door behind you as you entered your house, fiddling with the seven locks you had bought and added to the door. You grabbed your bag and pulled out yet another lock, one that had cost you a pretty penny. The shop keeper had assured you that it had an ironclad spell on it, making it impossible to be picked or broken. But that didn’t matter, he would somehow find a way through it just like he had with the other seven.

After installing the heavy lock, you scanned your house’s main room. Nothing appeared out of order, everything was where you left it. There was no eerie chill in your house, indicating that your shadow had not been inside today. Content as one could be in this situation, you made quick work of getting ready for bed. Your stomach screamed at you to get something to eat, but you ignored it. Your pantry door creaked open, but you grabbed the handle and slammed it shut. You could tell that he disliked when you went to bed without dinner, but after the long day you had, you couldn’t be bothered to care.

Weary, you climbed under the covers, knowing that somehow he was still watching. Despite all your curtains being closed and windows being bolted shut, he would still find a way to watch. He never touched anything – you or anything in your house, which reassured you enough to drift into sleep.

Until the next day.

******************

You woke up to the smell of an omelette filling your nostrils. Blinking away the last blissful sensations of sleep, you sat up in bed and sighed before pulling on your fuzzy robe and waddling out to the kitchen. The fogginess around your head instantly cleared as you approached the counter, noticing a fresh veggie and cheese omelette sitting on a plate by your usual stool. A tall glass of orange juice was carefully placed next to it, and a bouquet of midnight-blue roses were perched in your previously empty vase.

Your stomach did a backflip. This was new. Your shadow had never done anything like this before – he had been content just to observe you, to play with your fear like a cat toying at a mouse. Evidently, he didn’t like being ignored. The rational part of your brain wondered if the meal was poisoned somehow, a trap designed to render you unconscious or dead. But some sick part of you knew that it was safe, and urged you to eat it.

You weren’t stupid, you knew he was a stalker. You were pretty sure you knew who he was, too. There was only one male in the Night Court with the ability to be so discreet. As an advanced linguist, the High Lord had come to you several weeks ago for help on decoding an ancient language from a manuscript. Alongside him was his spymaster, whose intense hazel eyes sent a chill down your spine much like the one that haunted you now.

If it was indeed the spymaster who was your shadow, then you had no hope. He was the best there was when it came to spying – there was no chance of anyone being able to help you. Not that you’d told anyone about it. If you had, they would never believe you.

So you accepted your fate, doing your best to live your everyday life with a haunting presence always a few steps away. Begrudgingly, you took a seat on your stool and took a bite of the omelette. It was still warm, and you scoffed. Surprisingly, it was delicious, better than anything you could cook for yourself. A cool but soft sensation gently stroked at your cheek, as if to praise you for eating. You ignored it, glancing at the door you had bolted shut last night.

It was still closed, but every single lock was undone.

******************

A few days later, your shadow had made a new routine. You had gone to bed again without eating, and the exact same thing happened every morning – you’d wake up to a freshly cooked breakfast. Soon enough, you found yourself going to bed without eating on purpose, knowing he’d make sure you ate in the morning.

It was insane, you knew. Letting him do this to you – watch you while you sleep, eat the food he prepared for you. Evidently, your self preservation instincts were lacking, but you were lying if you said it didn’t send a little thrill through your body knowing he was watching your every move. You felt sacred, yet protected at the same time. It excited that sick part of your brain that relished in the danger of it.

After another long day in your office studying manuscripts, you headed home. For the first time in weeks, there were no echoing footsteps accompanying you. It felt almost lonely, which made you want to slap yourself for your stupidity – who misses being followed? So you walked in silence, an uneasy feeling churning your stomach. Your shadow had stuck to a single routine for weeks, and now things were changing. Now, you were less sure that you were safe in his presence. Yet you didn’t fight it. One way or another, he would get whatever it was he wanted. He would decide when to leave you alone, not you.

Immediately upon entering your home, you knew he had been there. A fresh bouquet of blue roses adorned your table, and there was that eerie chill in the air despite the heat from the fireplace. Heart racing, you set your bag down on the table next to the roses, scanning the room. Everything seemed in order, but something tugged you towards your bedroom. You found yourself blindly following it, anxiety making your bones jitter.

You stepped into your bedroom and gasped. Your bed was perfectly made, despite you leaving it a complete mess this morning. But that wasn’t what grasped your attention. At the foot of the bed there was a rectangular box. It was black, a dark blue ribbon wrapped around it and tied in a perfect bow at the top. There was no card, but you knew who it was from.

Any rational female would have simply grabbed it and thrown it as far away as possible, but the rational side of your brain was losing lately. Your curtain was slightly open, and you knew he was watching through the gap. With shaking hands, you undid the bow, letting the midnight blue ribbon fall from the box. Carefully, you opened the lid, holding your breath as you did so. You expected maybe a decapitated head, or a bloody knife, something to prove just how insane your stalker was. But no, what was inside the box was somehow even more startling.

Within the box was a dark blue nightgown. The cups were lacy and sheer, leaving nothing to the imagination. A small bow adorned the centre of the plunging v-line, and sheer panels of cobalt blue fabric were draped from the lace cups. Folded right next to it was a thong in the same colour, so thin it barely counted as panties. 

“What the fuck?” You wondered aloud, holding up the nightgown. It couldn’t even be classified as a nightgown, the way it covered nothing. You could have sworn a deep chuckle was carried in through the breeze from your window, so faint it was practically inaudible. But you knew he was watching, gauging your reaction.

For the first time, you spoke aloud to him. “No, I am NOT wearing this you sick fuck.” You shouted, tossing the lingerie onto the floor. “I’ll eat your stupid food because it tastes better than anything I can make, but I refuse to put this on. Creep!”

Fuming, you settled into a steaming hot bath. It was the one room your stalker’s presence never entered, the one place you got peace from him. At least he has a shred of decency not to spy on me in the bathroom, you thought bitterly to yourself. He was getting bolder, and his recent gift made you squirm. On the one hand, it was terrifying – a strange male wanting you to wear lingerie for him, breaking into your home day after day and watching you without you even catching a glimpse of him once. But on the other hand, it was exciting. Your life seemed so dull and mundane, having him in it brought excitement to your day.

Yup, you were definitely sick in the head.

You finished your bath and ignored the lingerie, opting for your usual t-shirt and shorts attire. You climbed under the covers, ignoring the eerie presence outside your window. “Go fuck yourself.” You muttered to him as you drifted off into sleep.

******************

The second you woke up, you knew he had done something. Typically, the first thing you did upon sitting up in bed was brushing the hair out of your face, having gone to bed with it loose. Instead, you felt no tendrils of hair sticking to your cheeks. Heart racing, you slowly reached behind your head and felt your hair. To your horror, it was pulled back into a neat braid tied together with a fragment of the blue ribbon from the box. It was slightly damp, as if someone had put an oil in it. Your breaths shortened as you pulled the braid over your shoulder, hands shaking. You noticed the chair in the corner of your room. The lingerie that had been on the floor all night was nearly placed on it, ready to wear.

The message couldn’t be more clear. He was escalating things – not once before had he ever touched you, until last night after you refused to put on the nightgown. Wear it, he seemed to say.

Your throat was dry as you peeled back the covers and walked over to the chair. Today was your day off, and you hadn’t planned on going anywhere. Several chores needed doing around the house – reorganising, cleaning, the works. You’d be damned if you had to do it basically naked. So you scoffed, strolling over to your wardrobe and opening the doors. Every nerve in your body froze as you faced an empty closet.

He had taken all of your clothes to ensure you would put on the lingerie.

Pervert.

You angrily slammed the door. “Fuck you!” You yelled, not knowing which direction to aim your fury at. “If I put on your gift, will you give me my clothes back?”

Something invisible caressed your shoulder. Yes, it seemed to purr.

You rolled your eyes, but took a deep breath and turned back towards the chair. You figured it was better to make him happy, and with a sigh you peeled off your shirt and pants. No doubt he was watching, taking in your naked form – but with the revealing lingerie, he’d be seeing it all regardless. 

Swallowing what little remained of your dignity, you slipped the thong and nightgown on. You tried not to think about how it fit you perfectly, clinging to the shape of your breasts like it was custom made for your frame.

******************

By dusk, you had finally completed all your tasks. It was demeaning, washing dishes with your ass hanging out. No doubt your shadow enjoyed the view. But after a while you had begun to not care, trying to ignore the heat that pooled in your core at the thought of him watching you, exposed like this.

You groaned when you entered your bedroom, finding another gift at the foot of your bed. It was in a smaller, square box this time, but was wrapped the exact same way. “Mother above, what do you want now?” You muttered, sitting down on your bed and ripping the ribbon off your gift. You let out a gasp as you peeled off the lid and peered inside.

At the bottom of the box was a blue vibrator. It was shaped like an L with a white circle at the top and three buttons going down the side. Gingerly, you pressed the bottom button and the small ring at the top began to vibrate gently. So you clicked the top button and pressed the ring into the palm of your hand. The vibrating increased, and sucked at the skin on your hand.

“Fucking hell.” It was a suction vibrator. You knew without a shadow of a doubt what he wanted you to do with it. But you were stubborn, and chucked the device across the room. It hit your wall, and landed on the floor with a thump.

“Absolutely not.” You hissed. “I am drawing the line here.”

Deciding you had lost enough dignity for today, you crawled into bed grumpily and closed your eyes.

Hours passed, but sleep did not come. It felt hot in the room, so you kicked off the sheets, letting your warm skin breathe. You tried everything – counting down from 100, telling yourself a story, but nothing brought the peaceful bliss of sleep. He was watching you, without a doubt, laughing at your pathetic attempts to force your brain to shut down.

But you couldn’t stop thinking about how it might feel to get yourself off while he watched. Once, you had drunkenly confessed to your ex boyfriend that you wanted to explore the idea of being watched while he fucked you, or while you pleasured yourself. You had been shot down instantly, making your cheeks go red with embarrassment. But that hadn’t changed your feelings about it.

You flinched as an invisible shadow gently caressed your cheek. It felt like silk against your skin, cold but comforting. A few seconds later, it skimmed just above the curve of your breast, teasing the edge of the lingerie. 

“What are you–” Your question was cut off by a moan as the shadow flicked over your nipple through the thin fabric. You couldn’t help but arch up into it, your body already tempting to beg for more.

Your breaths became pants as the shadow graced your other nipple, teasing the buds through the fabric. It trailed down your sides before taking up residence on your inner thighs. Without thinking, you spread your legs for the invisible force that was touching your body and making your core heat up. That deep laugh you thought you had heard days ago sounded again, causing your cheeks to turn red. The shadows caressed your inner thigh, crawling up towards your pussy before jumping over to the other leg and starting again.

It was embarrassing how wet you were. Your core was throbbing, begging to be touched. But the shadows denied you, content to ghost over your pussy and continue their dance along your inner thighs. You reached down to grab the bedsheets, but your hand knocked against something hard. It was the vibrator.

He was persistent tonight.

You tried to hold out, to leave the vibrator on the bed and ignore the soft sensations driving your body wild. It went on for so long, to the point where tears began forming in your eyes. If the shadows weren’t going to satisfy you, you’d have to do it yourself.

“This is sick.” You muttered to yourself, grabbing the vibrator. Taking a breath, you switched it on and cranked up the setting. Settling into the sheets and spreading your legs wider, you placed the suctioning ring to your clit. Almost instantly, your body jolted at the intense sensation and you gasped.

A deep, velvety voice sounded in your ear, so low it was almost inaudible above the sound of the vibrator. Good girl.

You gasped louder, chills going down your spine. Your stalker was watching you get off wearing the lingerie he bought for you, and it sent a thrill through your body. You moaned, letting your back arch off the bed as you grinded into the toy. Your core was pulsing, and you nearly screamed when you felt that teasing shadow slip into your hole. It curled inside of you, instantly finding your g-spot. You whimpered at the sensation, as your legs began to twitch, approaching your orgasm at lightning speed. You shamelessly moaned as your orgasm ripped through your body, writhing your hips against the high speed of the vibrator.

You tried to pull it away, but that invisible force stopped you. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn't drag your hand away. “No, no, no…” You whimpered pathetically, core screaming from oversensitivity as both the vibrator and the shadow relentlessly attacked it.

Yes, sweetheart. Take it. Give me another one. You heard the voice echo next to your ear.

“I can’t.” You cried, fighting with all your might to move. Yet your hand and hips remained frozen.

Yes, you can. 

You began sobbing, your body having no time to recover from your first orgasm as the second one rapidly approached. The shadow in your pussy pumped in and out even faster, hurling you over the edge just minutes later. 

Your pillow was soaked with your tears, and everything began to go fuzzy. You lost track of the amount of orgasms he forced you through before you passed out.

******************

You weren’t sure how much time had passed when you woke up. Your body was back under the covers, a fresh soft pillow behind your head. You groaned, the memories of last night flooding back like a burst dam. You had never orgasmed so hard in your life, nor so many times in one round. You remembered that voice in your ear, praising you and talking you through it.

You sat up in bed, rubbing your eyes. Instantly, you knew he was there. But it was different this time, closer. You slowly turned your head, and were met with a pair of hazel eyes and towering wings at the foot of your bed.

You inhaled sharply, finally meeting eyes with your stalker – Azriel, the spymaster of the Night Court. “Good morning, sweetheart.” His voice was as cold and smooth as the shadows that teased you last night. 

Finally, after weeks, your survival instinct kicked in. You scrambled off the bed, making a run for the door as fast as you could. Your heart pounded in your throat as you reached for the handle. Before you could grab onto it, a scarred, cold hand clamped down on your wrist. It was like iron, no matter how much you fought, he did not ease up. You closed your eyes, too scared to look at him.

“Let me go!” You screamed, using your free hand to slap his chest as hard as you could. Azriel did not flinch, as if you were nothing more than a fly. He grabbed your other hand, pinning it to your side. He stepped forward, forcing you to walk back until you were pressed against the wall. You felt him lift your arms until they were above your head, hands digging into the cold wood. He held them effortlessly with one hand, his newly free one coming down to stroke your cheek.

“You have such pretty eyes,” He murmured. “Let me see them.”

You sobbed, tears wetting your cheeks. You were terrified – you had heard stories of what the shadowsinger was capable of, the torture he inflicted on his enemies. Was this one of his sick torture methods? And why you? Still, you kept them squeezed shut.

The male growled, his hand gripping your jaw firmly and forcing your chin up. “I said open your eyes. Don’t make me ask again.”

You obliged this time, prying your eyes open to look at him for the first time. He was much taller than you, his muscled frame towering over your own. His short dark hair was tousled, strands of it teasing his forehead and making those hazel eyes look even more menacing. His face was sharp and undeniably beautiful, and Mother above his wings flared menacingly behind him. They were enormous. Your eyes met his – hazel eyes that had watched you, unseen from the shadows for weeks on end.

“Please don’t hurt me.” You said shakily.

His brows furrowed, confusion that looked genuine crossing his features. “Hurt you? Why would I want to do that?”

“Because that’s what you do for a living.” Your voice was meek, and you tried to ignore how smooth his voice was.

“But not you.” He said, thumb stroking your jaw. “Never you. Unless you asked. Gods, I would do almost anything you asked.”

You gulped, jaw beginning to ache from the pressure of his grip. “Including leave me alone?”

Azriel chuckled darkly, leaning in closer. “That’s why I said ‘almost’, princess.” His hand released your jaw, snaking its way down your body and settling on your waist. He gave it a squeeze, letting out a chuckle as you gasped. Your traitorous body giving away the faint scent of arousal that grew at his actions. “Besides, we both know you don’t want that.”

“Leave me alone.” You begged. “I don’t want this.”

“Oh, but your body says otherwise.” Azriel moved his hand down past your hip, cupping your backside and squeezing sharply. More arousal pooled at your core, and you whimpered. “See?” His velvety voice was laced with satisfaction. “You crave my touch. After hearing your sweet moans last night I don’t think I can live another day without hearing them again. I hadn’t even touched you and you came so hard all on your own. You’re going to utterly fall apart when I get my cock inside you, sweetheart. I’m going to ruin you.”

 He pressed his hips into you, letting you feel his massive bulge against your lower stomach. You gasped, the sheer size of it almost unsettling. You felt wetness pool between your legs, and you pressed your knees together. Azriel noticed, and chuckled again. “Do you have any idea how hard I tried to hold off touching myself last night as I watched you?” He purred, lips grazing your ear. “I couldn’t do it. After your second orgasm, I finally pulled out my cock and imagined it was your hand wrapped around it. It took everything in me not to take you right then and there.”

You growled, baring your teeth. “Let. Me. Go.” You hissed, ignoring your body’s desire to give into whatever he wanted.

Azriel sighed, letting go of your wrists and removing his hand from your backside. Your arms dropped down, shoulders aching from being pinned up. You let out a breath, unsure what was going on. “Disappointing,” He said lowly. “I was going to let you have me any way you wanted. I was going to be gentle, take my time, give you whatever you asked. I’d have tied myself up if that’s what you wanted. But have it your way.”

The spymaster took a step back, his eyes going dark. “I’m going to let you run. Run now, and don’t let me catch you.”

Your entire body went cold. What had you gotten yourself into? “And what happens if you catch me?” You asked nervously.

The smile that spread across his lips terrified you. “I fuck you. I claim you whatever way I want, and you take it like a good girl. You can fight it all you want, but you’ll learn your place by the end of the night. Now run.”

You didn’t hesitate before bolting out of the bedroom, throwing your door open and running towards the woods. You didn’t care that you had no shoes, or that you were still in the revealing lingerie. You ignored the freezing bite of the forest air as you ran into it.

******************

You weren’t sure how long you had been running. Azriel had reverted back to his favourite game from when he first began following you – every time you heard footsteps, you ran. They caught up to you, and when you turned around to face him, nobody was there. It was torture, and you were ready to give up. You leaned against one of the trees, gasping for air.

“Giving up yet?” Your shadow’s voice sounded in your ear. You spun around, but he wasn’t there. “You’re making this too fun, sweetheart.” He called from a distance, suddenly further away.

Taking another heaving breath, you forced yourself to run. You zig zagged through the trees, trying to lose him. You knew it was hopeless, that he was just toying with you. But you’d be damned if you didn’t go down trying.

You turned around to see if he was following, and the wind suddenly got knocked out of your lungs as you crashed into a tall figure. You thought you were going to fall on your ass, but strong arms grabbed you and held you upright. You couldn’t help but scream at the surprise. Panting, you looked up and were met with Azriel’s sly grin. “Caught you.” He purred. “Looks like I win.”

You gave up. From the moment he had laid out the lingerie for you, you knew it would come to this. To him having his way with you. It all led to this, and while the thought terrified you, it also ignited something animalistic in you. There had been a certain thrill to running through the forest like a deer being hunted by a lion. Again, that sick and twisted part of your brain won over the sensible part. Deep down, you knew that you wanted this. You had only fought for the sake of your own pride. You craved the thrill.

As if sensing your submission, Azriel leaned down and buried his nose in your neck, inhaling your scent. “You smell so fucking perfect.” He groaned, lips brushing your skin. “I can’t wait to taste you. That's all I’ve been thinking about.”

Suddenly, the world spun around you, and you found yourself back in your bedroom moments later. The warmth was welcome against your ice cold skin, and you were secretly relieved he wasn’t about to fuck you like an animal in the dirty forest. You didn’t have time to question his actions before he bent down and captured your lips in his.

You moaned as his mouth claimed yours with a dominance that made your core wet. There was no romance behind it, just pure claiming desire. You melted into him as one of his scarred hands reached around your lower back and pulled you against his solid chest. His other hand reached up and grasped your hair, tilting your head back to get a better angle. 

You gasped at the tug on your scalp, and Azriel snaked his tongue into your mouth, exploring every inch of it. You’d never been kissed like this before, and it was making your head spin. Hesitantly, you reached up and clasped your hands around his neck, tangling your fingers in the hair at the top of his neck. He growled into your mouth in response, kicking your legs apart with his feet and settling his thigh in between them. 

Azriel’s lips made their way down the column of your neck, biting and sucking harshly as he went. You moaned as his thigh moved against your throbbing core, sending a warm sensation up your body. The delicate panties you were wearing did nothing to hide how wet you were, the juices from your cunt seeping onto his dark pants. He moved his mouth down to the tops of your breasts, biting down hard with his sharp canines and making you cry out. You’d for sure be covered in a million bruises tomorrow.

“Fuck, I can feel how wet you are on my thigh.” The shadowsinger groaned into your skin. “I’ve barely even touched you and you’re this soaked already? It’s pathetic, coming from someone who said they didn’t want this.”

You could only whimper, defenceless as scarred hands grabbed the sides of your nightgown and ripped it apart with one pull. It fell to pieces on the floor beside you. You felt yourself being lifted into the air, and you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist. It was hard not to gasp as your sopping cunt was pressed into his rock hard bulge in his trousers. Azriel carried you over to the bed and roughly tossed you into the mattress, causing you to bounce over the sheets ungracefully. Quick as a viper, he snaked his way over top of your body, making you feel incredibly small.

He smirked as his lips met your nipple, sucking harshly and making you cry out. He did not treat your breast gently, covering the mound of flesh with bitemarks and bruises from his lips before moving to the other one. You went to push him by the shoulders, the intensity from his mouth bordering on too much, but his hands quickly found yours and pinned them to the mattress. You were utterly helpless beneath him, and it sent more wetness to your core.

Azriel lifted his head from your breasts, smirking at your flushed face before trailing his lips down your stomach. He let go of your hands, but tendrils of darkness snaked their way around your wrists, taking his place. They pinned your hands above your head, unable to move. You could have sworn they chuckled at you – the mischievous shadows at their masters command had been torturing you for weeks, finally getting to reveal themselves in their true form.

Azriel gripped the string of your panties in his teeth, hazel eyes making contact with your own. He pulled them down your legs with his mouth, the animalistic action making you even wetter. Instinctively, you closed your legs once he removed them. Once he tossed the panties aside, rough hands pried your legs open. “Now, now,” He tutted, his deep voice lulling you into obedience. “Am I going to have to restrain your legs, too?”

You shook your head, relaxing your muscles into his grip. Azriel smirked triumphantly, settling on his knees on the ground at the end of the bed and yanking you closer to him by his ankles. “Good girl.” He praised, wrapping his arms underneath your thighs and putting your hips in an ironclad grip. A fresh wave of arousal pooled from you, dampening the sheets – and his smirk grew wider.

“Do you like it when I tell you what a good girl you are?” He asked, cocking his head. “Or would you prefer if I told you that you’re a pathetic little slut, all spread out for me? An ungrateful brat who ran through the forest to defy me when she could have had things her way if she just asked nicely?”

You whimpered, screwing your eyes shut at the humiliation. It was embarrassing how much your body was responding to his words alone. If he didn’t touch you soon, you were sure you were going to explode. A harsh nip on your thigh brought your attention back to the spymaster.

“I asked you a question.” He growled dangerously. “Are you a good girl? Or are you my little slut, ready to give herself to me to do whatever I want?”

“I…” You tried to find the words, but found your ability to speak had gotten lost in the forest somewhere with your dignity. Before you could try again, your body was flipped over so that you were laying on your stomach, arm still bound in front of you. A loud cracking noise filled the room as Azriel smacked your left ass cheek with thunderous force. You couldn’t hold in the cry that slipped out.

“Every time you disobey me, you get ten spanks.” Azriel said firmly, his voice cold as stone with no mercy to be found. “You are to count them aloud. If you lose track, I start over. Understood?”

You nodded, but it wasn’t good enough. Your right cheek took the blow this time. “I expect a verbal response.” He hissed.

“Yes!” You cried out, skin stinging from the slap.

“Good. Now count.”

Azriel brought his hand down again, alternating sides. You counted out loud, tears dripping onto the pillow. The spymaster was a trained Illyrian warrior with three times your muscle, so it hurt like hell. But you couldn’t deny that it made you even wetter.

“Ten.” You sobbed as Azriel made his final hit before flipping you around so you were on your back again.

“You enjoyed that, didn’t you?” He hummed, leaning into your cunt and inhaling your scent.

“Yes.” You said eagerly, not wanting to endure another round of his fierce hits.

“See? You’re learning. Soon, you’ll be perfect at it, my own little toy who will do whatever I ask without talking back. Unless you enjoy your punishments, I wouldn’t be surprised if a slut like you acted out so she could get put in her place.”

You whimpered, unsuccessfully attempting to move your hips up in his firm grip. “Please.”

Azriel smirked again, lifting his head. “Please, what?”

“Touch me.” You couldn’t take it anymore. The feeling of his warm breath fanning right above your cunt was getting to be too much. You didn’t care about anything else right now other than him.

“Since you begged so nicely, sweetheart. I will listen to you just this once.”

Finally, those sinful lips met your core. You cried out as he delved in like a man starved, licking a bold strip up your pussy before attaching his lips to your clit and sucking hard. He was rough and relentless, putting the vibrator he got you to shame. His lips and tongue were everywhere, exploring every inch of your pussy. You couldn’t move your hips against his attack, forced to lay there and take what he gave you. 

The male who stalked you for weeks, who happened to be the spymaster of the Night Court, was on his knees eating you out. He slipped a finger in your hole, the scars and ridges making your body sing. After a few more minutes, he easily slipped in a second.

It wasn’t long before you felt your orgasm rapidly approaching. It hit you like a landslide, and you saw white as the tension between your legs snapped. You almost sobbed as it wracked your body, unable to even buck your hips to ride it out. Azriel groaned into your core as you soaked his face, but he eased up as you came down from your high, unlike what he did with the vibrator. When he finally pulled away, your arms were released, and your entire body was trembling like a leaf. You opened your eyes to see Azriel pulling his shirt above his head, revealing whirling black tattoos and a muscled abdomen that snapped you out of your trance. Immediately, you sat up in the bed, fixing your eyes on his shirtless form. You didn’t have to glance up to know that his face was a look of pure male pride as he unbuckled his belt and pulled down his trousers and boxers all in one go, stepping out of them and leaving both of you completely naked. 

Your jaw went agape at the size of him. He was long and thick, unlike any male you’d seen before. While you certainly enjoyed sex with males, your mouth had never watered with the urge to put their cock in your mouth.

Until now.

Azriel stroked himself, wings flaring behind him. He looked like a god above you, pure muscle and desire as he stared down at you. “On your knees. Now.” He ordered with an authority that sang to your desires. You didn’t hesitate to scramble onto the floor in front of him, kneeling. He guided his cock to your lips, which you gladly opened to allow him entrance. The moan he let out as you encased as much of his cock in your mouth as you could was otherworldly.

You looked up at him through your lashes. He had tilted his head back, the column of his throat bobbing with groans as you slid your lips up and down. There was no way you’d manage to fit it all in your mouth, so you reached up and grabbed the base with one hand, pumping gently to meet your mouth.

“Oh, fuck.” Azriel moaned, reaching down and gathering your hair in one hand. “Just like that, princess.”

Tears welled in your eyes as you gagged around him, but kept going. You had expected the shadowsinger to be quiet, given his reputation. But no, his groans and sighs echoed throughout your bedroom, spurring you on. As the minutes passed your knees began to ache, but you welcomed the pain.

Suddenly, Azriel pulled himself out of your mouth. You whined, wanting to please him further.

“Such a pathetic slut, whining that she didn’t get to suck my cock for longer.” He growled, hoisting you up by your arm and flinging you back onto the bed. “I thought about coming in your mouth, but no. I’m going to fill up that sweet cunt of yours instead. And you’re going to take it.”

You were laying on your stomach facing the mirror on your wall to the left of your bed. You watched your reflection as Azriel grabbed your hips and lifted them up in the air, forcing you to prop yourself up on your elbows. His hazel eyes were so dark, the colour barely showed. They met yours in the mirror as he learned down and grabbed your hair again, forcing your head up to face the mirror head on. “You’re going to watch as I fuck you.” He said, lining himself up with your entrance. 

He kept one hand in your hair as he guided the tip into you, causing you to cry out. The stretch stung, despite being prepared. He was bigger than any cock you had taken, and your body struggled to accommodate. Azriel didn’t give you much time to adjust before he was pushing himself fully in, groaning. You tried to force your body to relax, knowing you were going to be sore the next day. He slowly slid himself almost all the way out, relieving your muscles before slamming back into you with a force that nearly knocked the wind out of you. You gasped, and instinctively went to turn your head into the pillow, but a harsh tug on your hair from Azriel made you stop.

“Keep watching.” He said firmly. “If you take your eyes off the mirror, I won’t let you cum. Got it?”

“Yes.” You whined. Azriel grunted, and began pounding into you at a relentless pace. The loud sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room as you were fucked mercilessly.

“This is what you fucking needed, isn’t that right?” Azriel hissed as he thrusted into you. “To be treated like a slut? All those other boys been too nice to you, letting you get away with talking back. They don’t know what you truly need. To be put in your place, properly fucked within an inch of your life. Nobody can make you feel as good as I can.”

His words poured over you like honey, the pain subsisting into drunken bliss. The bed was shaking beneath you, headboard banging against the wall loudly. As much as you hated to admit it, he was right. Nobody had ever fucked you like this, in a way you didn’t know you needed. It was so wrong, letting him do these things to you. But it felt too good to deny yourself it.

Azriel bent over, covering your back with his tall frame as he adjusted his angle and thrust even harder. One hand was pressed to the bed to steady himself while the other gripped your jaw firmly. You watched in the mirror, and it was perhaps the most erotic thing you had ever seen – Azriel’s wings flaring as he claimed you, muscular arm holding you in place, utterly helpless against him. He sunk his canines into your shoulder, hard enough to draw blood. You cried out as his teeth carved into your flesh, the mixture of pain from his bite and pleasure from his thrusts sending you towards another orgasm. He released your jaw and reached down to rub your clit harshly.

“Nobody’s allowed to touch you but me.” He growled in your ear, watching your face in the mirror. “You’re mine, and mine only, you got that? If I even scent another male has touched you, I’ll cut his hands off and leave them at your doorstep. You belong to me now. Cum for me.”

He accentuated those last three words with thrusts, and it was enough to send you over the edge. Your entire body shook as you came around Azriel’s cock, black fuzziness surrounded the edges of your vision. You watched through your lashes as Azriel bared his teeth, growling like an animal as his hips sputtered and he spilled himself inside you. He let out a moan that could have shaken the entire forest. You screamed weakly as he spurted inside you while you rode out your orgasm, the sensation nearly making you pass out.

You both panted as Azriel pulled himself out of you. He climbed off the bed and you immediately collapsed. The room was spinning, your body completely spent. The spymaster casually put on his clothes and crouched down so his face was level with yours. 

“I’m going to have so much fun with you.” He purred before his shadows encompassed him and he vanished, leaving you alone wondering what just happened.

[theostrophywife]

disturbia.

author's note: this is very different from anything i've ever written and largely inspired by this song. it's quite dark, so trigger warning for dark!az, predator/prey, and dub-con elements.

the shadowsinger had a sinister secret.

azriel was hungry. he craved, he coveted. within him was a festering desire, blossoming like a nightshade, unfurling its poisonous fruit with quiet malevolence since the day he first laid eyes on you.

you.

he desired you, ached for you. didn’t you know that he would do anything for you? didn’t you know that he would kill for you?

surely not.

because if you did, you wouldn’t be wasting your time on that pathetic excuse of a male that called himself your boyfriend. if only you realized that azriel was the only person for you. the one that knew you, the one that loved you, the one that watched you.

the shadowsinger couldn’t help himself. you made it so easy. hasn’t anyone ever taught you to cover your windows? to double check the lock on your doors? to reinforce the wards around your home?

if azriel didn’t know any better, he’d think that you were doing this on purpose. maybe you wanted him to see. maybe you pretended not to notice him in the shadows. maybe you feigned ignorance to the fact that he snuck in through your window every night, watching and waiting.

with his shadows enveloping him, azriel was nearly invisible in the swath of darkness that was your room. the shadowsinger claimed his post by the corner, squinting through the faint sliver of moonlight cascading over your writhing body.

at first, he thought you were asleep. perhaps in the throes of a nightmare.

but he was wrong.

your breathing sounded soft and ragged, the pounding of your heart echoing in his ears as you twisted through the sheets. a crease formed between his brows as he crept closer. you were utterly oblivious and completely unaware of his presence. you weren’t dreaming at all, but instead touching yourself.

mesmerized, the shadowsinger watched through heavy lids as your dainty fingers slipped between your legs, taunting and teasing as you spread your own slick through your puffy folds. azriel’s eyes nearly rolled to the back of his head as the sweet, heady scent of arousal filled the room.

he'd crawl on his hands and knees for a chance to taste you.

the little whines and pants that escaped your lips sounded like heaven to his ears. the shadowsinger gripped the edge of your four poster bed as you spread your legs even wider, blankets sliding off of your creamy thighs as your fingers plunged into your soaking wet folds. you arched against the bed so prettily, cheeks flushed and lips bloodred as you bit down on a moan.

“fuck,” you keened as your fingers found purchase against your clit. “so good. so fucking good, azriel.”

azriel paused in the darkness. his breathing stilled. shadows peered over his shoulders. he was dreaming—he had to be. only in his wildest fantasies would you be moaning his name while fucking yourself with your fingers.

“gods, just like that. feels so fucking good,” the breathy cadence of your voice made his cock stiffen in his trousers. “don’t stop, azriel.”

one of azriel’s shadows snaked across your torso, twining through your soaked fingers to provide assistance. you bit down on your bottom lip and blood rushed straight to the shadowsinger’s already hard length. as soon as you sensed his shadow, your eyes flew open, blinking yourself back to reality. azriel could hear the thunderous beat of your heart as you scrambled and pushed yourself against the headboard, trembling at the sight of him lurking in the shadows.

it was one thing to fantasize about the shadowsinger, but quite another to find him prowling towards you in the dark.

“how did you get in here?” you asked with a fraught tone.

"the window," the shadowsinger said, his eyes trained on you. his voice, which sounded like cold death, caused the hairs on the back of your neck to prickle. "you should really check the locks before touching yourself. you never know who could be watching, little dove."

azriel inched closer, watching as your arousal transformed into something much sweeter—fear. you clutched the blankets up to your chest, but the thin fabric slipped between your fingers, giving him a perfect view of the sheer baby pink lace that barely concealed your body.

"what—what do you want from me—" your voice trembled as the shadowsinger smirked.

in one swift motion, azriel yanked you to the edge of the bed, the silk of your skimpy nightgown riding up your thighs as he wrapped your ankles around his waist. scarred fingers toyed with the flimsy straps of your gown and your breath hitched as his rough, calloused hands made contact with your sensitive skin.

"i think the better question is, what do you want from me, little dove?" azriel fisted your hair and tugged forcefully. "i heard you moaning my name.”

your cheeks reddened. it was supposed to be a fantasy. a dirty little secret that you only allowed yourself to indulge in within the privacy of your room. azriel wasn’t meant to know that it was him you thought about when your hands were between your legs. or that it was him that you imagined when your boyfriend was on top of you.

ex-boyfriend, now that you finally admitted to yourself that he could never please you in the way that you desired. still, the shadowsinger didn’t need to know that.

“you heard wrong. i wasn’t moaning your name. i was —i was thinking about my boyfriend. he’ll be back any second now.”

a blatant lie. one that azriel clearly saw right through.

“no, he won’t. you never let him sleep over. why is that, little dove? does he not satisfy you?” azriel drew patterns upon your skin, his soft voice calm yet menacing at the same time. ���does he not seduce you in the ways that you wish to be seduced?”

your eyes fluttered close as the shadowsinger tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. his cool breath fanned over your overheated skin as he grazed his teeth along your earlobe. “i bet he can’t fuck you like i can.”

too far. you had let this go too far. you were supposed to hate him. azriel was the hunter; you, the hunted. the shadowsinger was a wolf waiting to sink his claws into his doe-eyed prey. everything about him should have repulsed you, but instead you felt seduced by the dark, demented male.

"i don't know how you got in, but i think you should leave," you breathed, cheeks flushed and eyes glossy with unshed tears. you tried to make your voice sound as authoritative as possible, but it faltered into a soft, raspy murmur, which only made the shadowsinger smirk arrogantly. "you're scaring me—"

azriel gripped the back of your head, lightly tugging at your scalp. despite the alarms blaring in your mind, you couldn't help but lean into his touch. he felt warm and solid against you, his muscled thigh pressing against your core. "oh, but i don't think i am, little dove. i think you wanted me to hear. i think you've known that i've been watching you for a while now and i think you it turns you on."

underneath the blankets, your fingers curled around the mug you had swiped from the dresser. before azriel could come any closer, you smashed the glass to the side of his head, but it met empty air instead. the winged male disappeared into a veil of shadows, submerging the room in utter darkness. the mug clattered to the floor just as his low, husky voice slithered through the silence.

"run."

you bolted out of your bedroom, bare feet thudding through the hallway as you raced for the stairs. behind you, azriel chuckled darkly as you gave chase. you knew he could easily catch you by moving through his shadows, but he didn't. it was almost like he was enjoying this. like he was getting off on frightening you. he was the predator; you were the prey.

and you didn't stand a chance against him.

but still, you flew past the front door and ran through the clearing behind your house as fast as your aching legs would take you. the moon glittered overhead as you tripped over the roots and branches of the sinister forest, running and running with nowhere to go. your nightgown caught on a bramble of thorns and the delicate lace ripped at the hem, revealing even more of your already exposed skin.

the cold winter air caused you to shiver violently, but you had no time to ponder your discomfort as you rounded on a thicket of oak trees. you cried out as something sharp pierced your skin. a thorn had scratched your face and blood welled like crimson tears upon your cheekbone. with shaking hands, you swiped at the scratch and winced at the sting of pain.

"poor little dove," azriel cooed, materializing out of nothingness. you pressed against the nearest tree, the rough bark biting your skin as you attempted to place distance between you and the shadowsinger. the slash of his smirk made you shiver. azriel prowled through the forest like a wolf, his golden eyes hungry. "so frail and helpless. let me help you, little one."

the shadowsinger cornered you, his dark wings blocking any means of escape. you whimpered as he caressed your cheek. his breath was warm against your face as he licked away the droplets of blood dripping from your scratch.

“don’t,” you cried out, shoving at his immovable chest. “don’t touch me!”

azriel took hold of your wrists and slammed you backwards against the oak tree. the rough bark scratched at your arms and legs, feeling like a thousand tiny needles all over your body. with tear stained cheeks, you looked up at azriel. the eerie silver light from the crescent moon kissed his sharp, elegant features. he was classically handsome, beautiful in a lethal sort of way. you clenched your thighs together as those whiskey eyes hungrily raked over your figure, stripping you down with the lick of his gaze.

everything within you screamed that the shadowsinger was a sick and twisted predator. one who had snuck into your bedroom and admitted to watching you. the dark obsession azriel fostered for you made him a very dangerous male. it should have triggered your adrenaline to help fight back, but instead, you found yourself frozen in place as his fingers skirted over the hem of your dress.

“your mouth says one thing,” azriel murmured while he hiked your leg up over his waist, watching with a small smile as you shuddered in response to his touch. “but your body says another.”

“so what will it be, little dove?” the shadowsinger teased as his lips ghosted over the hollow of your throat. much to your chagrin, you sighed softly and arched against his warm, wet mouth. “the way i see it, you have two choices. you can keep running through the woods, cold and alone. knowing that i’ll eventually catch you. or you could accept your fate. stop fighting this, angel. admit that you want me.”

you spat in his face. “you’re fucking delusional!”

something dark and dangerous flashed through azriel’s hazel eyes. beneath that cold, icy exterior, his frozen rage began to thaw.

azriel dug his fingers into your hips, forming bruises in his wake. “and you’re in denial,” he hissed harshly. “even now, i can smell your arousal. you’re soaked, practically dripping for me. i bet that pretty little pussy of yours is aching for my cock.”

“you’re wrong,” you said defiantly despite the traitorous throbbing in your core. “i want nothing to do with you, shadowsinger.”

“don’t fucking lie to me, little dove.”

a harsh response sat on the tip of your tongue, but it never made it out. instead, a lewd moan replaced the insult as azriel dipped two fingers across your wet, soaking folds. out of instinct, you wrapped your legs around his trim waist and steadied yourself with both hands braced against his chest.

“filthy fucking liar,” azriel hissed into your ear. “you’re so wet, little dove. my fingers slipped right in.” you whimpered as he curled his middle and pointer finger inside of you. “gods, you’re tight. i can feel your pussy clenching around me. thought you wanted nothing to do with me, hm?”

“i don’t—“ the shadowsinger hit the spongy spot within your walls and stars erupted behind your eyes. “oh, fuck azriel—“

you mewled as his thumb found purchase against your clit. he expertly teased the sensitive bundle of nerves and you felt all sense and logic depart from your lust addled brain. “oh my gods,” you breathed, feeling that familiar rush of heat. “oh my fucking gods.”

“that’s right, little dove. i’m your god now.”

this wasn't right. everything about this situation was fucked up, but nothing had ever felt quite as heavenly as azriel's fingers. the shadowsinger slipped a third digit in and the scarred and calloused ridges covering his hand provided the perfect amount of friction against your aching cunt. you could hear how wet you were, soaking his palm as you tightened around him.

"take it, little dove. doesn't it feel good to take what you fucking want?" azriel whispered as he kissed bruises against your neck. "ride my fingers just like that. not so scared now, are you? i told you, no one else could fuck you like this. i can make your body sing, pretty girl." you wrapped your legs around his waist in a death grip and blubbered against his chest.

you were supposed to be scared of him. you were not supposed to like this, but fuck you did. there was no denying the pleasure that racked through your body as you rode his fingers. "please—oh."

the shadowsinger took advantage of your parted lips and crushed your mouths together. you should've pulled away. you should've slapped him across the face, but you did neither. instead, you twined your fingers through his hair and allowed his tongue to slip past your defenses. azriel growled when you moaned into his mouth, panting as you rolled your hips against his middle.

"so fucking greedy, baby." azriel nipped at your ear and gripped your waist. "can feel your pretty cunt squeezing me, little one. look at you, using my fingers to get yourself off. c'mon then, keep fucking my hand just like that."

a jolt of electricity crackled in your veins as you grinded down and matched his pace. it was heaven, it was hell. azriel's shadows flicked around your clit and unraveled you from the inside out.

“keep making those filthy sounds and i’ll have no choice but to fuck you against this tree." azriel hissed harshly as your cunt squeezed around his fingers in response. "oh, that's what you want, isn't it little one? you're not satisfied with my fingers, are you? you want my cock, too."

the shadowsinger's dark laughter skittered over you like shadows. "i thought you hated me, hm?"

"i do," you declared, looking up at him through your lashes. "i fucking hate you."

azriel smirked. "but you want to fuck me even more."

"no—" your breath hitched as azriel grinded against you. the evidence of his arousal pressed into your middle—long and hard and throbbing.

"i know you want it, little one." the shadowsinger rolled his hips as your head fell slack against the tree. "i know you want to sink down onto my cock and take every fucking inch like a good girl. isn't that right, pretty girl?"

you whimpered in response as he pulled his trousers down, freeing his cock from the constraints of the fabric. the tip, pink and swollen and dripping with precum, teased along your entrance as you tried to wriggle away. azriel groaned as the head of his cock parted your folds slowly.

"just the tip, baby." his breathing turned ragged as your warmth and heat hugged around him. the sensation alone could have made him cum. "feels good, doesn't it? stop trying to fight it, little dove. you know you want it. you know you want me."

tears streamed down your cheeks as you tried to fight the urge. you should stop. you should run. but azriel felt too fucking good.

"azriel, please."

"no." the shadowsinger growled as he gripped your jaw harshly. “don't whine. don't beg. take what you fucking want, little dove. that's the way this works. i want you, so i’m taking you. you need to do the same."

whatever shame you may have felt dissipated. there was no use denying the obvious. you may have hated him, but you wanted to fuck him even more. pushing aside your pride, you sank down onto azriel's cock with a gasp. your arousal instantly coated his length, making the shadowsinger feel as though he was drowning in your pussy.

"fuck," azriel choked out. "pussy's so wet, baby. so fucking tight too. that's it, pretty girl. clench around my cock just like that and i might fucking fall in love with you."

you clawed at azriel's back as you grinded into him, greedily bouncing on his cock as you moaned. the shadowsinger thrust upwards and fucked into you, making you squelch and squeeze around his length. the shadowsinger grunted with each thrust, driving himself deeper and deeper. the coarse bark scratched against your back, but the pain barely registered as you rolled your hips over and over again.

“azriel. azriel. azriel.”

“are you praying, baby?” azriel mused with a sharp thrust. “you should be, because no one’s saving you from me tonight. i’m your damnation, little one. i’m going to ruin you. and you’ll fucking beg for more.”

you sobbed as he pinched your right nipple with one hand and flicked his tongue over the left. there was something feral in his gaze as he drank in your eager responses, almost as though your little sighs and moans were more delicious than the finest liquor money could buy. azriel hissed when you tugged harshly at the back of his head, moaning into his mouth as his tongue claimed you. his fingers wrapped around your neck just as he sucked on your bottom lip, massaging your lips with his.

“we should stop. this is wrong. this is—“ you murmured, lifting your hips up and up until only the tip of his cock was inside of you.

“stop then, pretty girl.” azriel mocked as he held you in place. “stop riding my cock and walk away.” the shadowsinger paused, waiting for you to peel yourself off of him.

tears streaked down your cheeks as you held him closer, hands greedily slipping underneath his shirt to feel his warmth. “i can’t. its too good.”

the shadowsinger’s laughter echoed through the clearing as he slammed all the way in, rattling your brain while he fucked you against the oak wood. “that’s what i fucking thought,” he taunted.

azriel kept burying himself inside of you over and over again, drawing out your pleasure. the sound of skin slapping against skin was filthy, vulgar, and downright obscene, but it was nothing compared to azriel's mouth. every foul word that fell from his lips burned like a sweet, searing flame. azriel was a dark god and you've never felt more pious in your life as he worshipped you with his body. you cried, nails raking over his back in thin, red lines. blood seeped through his shirt as you clung onto him, but the shadowsinger made no complaints.

“can feel you squeezing me, pretty girl. bet you wanna cum, huh?” azriel said as he sucked your collarbone. “go on then, little one. milk my cock dry. be fucking greedy with it. turns me on how desperate you are.”

you wailed at the utter filthiness of his words. with a sharp stroke, your vision blurred and your legs shook violently underneath you. “oh gods,” you sobbed, feeling as though you were in a trance. “fuck, fuck, fuck.”

azriel’s sensitive cock throbbed as your hips stuttered, your glorious pussy clenching around him like a jealous lover. you creamed him from base to tip and he bit down on your shoulder to mask the growl that crawled up his throat.

“that’s my good little girl,” azriel praised, purring against your ear. “your pussy is fucking heaven. oh fuck, gonna cum inside you pretty girl.” hot ribbons spurted inside of you as azriel continued thrusting. “feel that, little one? that’s what you do to me. you drive me fucking wild.”

azriel grunted as he finished. “this pussy is mine and so are you. do you understand, little dove?”

the haziness of your orgasm made your head swim and you barely registered the pathetic little nod you gave. azriel smirked as you collapsed into his arms. his dark wings wrapped around you protectively. whether they were your prison or your refuge, you had no idea. all you knew was that your body buzzed from the mind shattering orgasm.

“no one would blame me if i kept you,” the shadowsinger murmured as he caressed your cheek. “i don’t care if it’s wrong. i want you. i need you and no one can take you away from me. i’d fucking gut them if they tried.”

you whimpered at his words, but azriel was undeterred by the fear swimming in your gaze. probably because the heady scent of your arousal had filled the air again. so eager for him even though he had just fucked you dumb.

“you’re fucking mine, little dove. and i’m never letting you go.”

[honeybeefae]

Azriel & best friend’s sibling NSFW

Can You Keep a Secret? (Azriel x Reader)

BINGO: Best Friend’s Sibling

(I skipped over this one at first because I couldn’t figure out a great way to write but now I have been struck by the inspiration bug and boy oh boy did it bite HARD. Just like Az does hehe. Warning ahead but this is a Dark!Azriel fic so PLS pay attention to the warning.)

(PS: I could do a part two to this if people wanted it? I know this isn’t my usual smut and that it might make some people uncomfortable so I was hesitant but I hope you guys like it!)

WARNINGS: Smut, Dark!Azriel, Knife play, kidnapping, use of drugs, dubcon, biting, aphrodisiacs, “love potion”, 

It wasn’t even five minutes after your brother had left the house that you found yourself shoved against the wall, your brother’s best friend attacking your neck with bites and kisses.

“Gods, Az-” You choked out, rubbing yourself against his thigh as he split your legs apart. 

This had become a weekly, if not daily, routine between the two of you. Rhys had always been protective of you since the death of your mother. You had barely escaped with your life and he was sparing no expense or time to make sure you were kept under lock and key.

He hadn’t realized that by appointing his Spymaster, one of his closest friends, to help guard you that he was leading the danger right to you. 

“You wore this pretty thing just for me mouse?” Azriel groaned into your neck, one of his scarred hands coming to circle around your throat when he saw a flash of your bare pussy underneath your dress. “Such a naughty thing.”

“Maybe I should be punished…” You purred, smirking when he clicked his tongue and pressed harder against your neck. He was quickly cutting off your air but you could care less, your body singing from how the fabric of his leathers rubbed against you in the most delicious way. 

Azriel noticed. He knew every small signal your body gave, knew your routine, knew everything about you. It was an obsession, an addiction, and he was consumed by it. 

You whined when he lifted you up with ease and shoved you toward the bed, undoing his pants with one hand as your knees hit the back of the mattress and you fell onto it. He stood above you, his shadows curling over his shadows and whispering something only he could hear.

The mood shifted when he looked down at you, any trace of kindness or care gone. A shiver went down your spine at how serious he looked, his eyes wild with lust and obsession, before you felt his shadows curl around your wrists and yank you down.

“Shit!” You cursed, surprise making you flinch as more shadows wrapped around your ankles and spread you fully. “Azriel?”

“Hush.” He ordered, his jaw clenching as he unsheathed Truth-Teller and pointed the tip at the hollow of your throat. “You said you wanted to be punished, mouse. Can you take it?”

Your heart thrummed in your chest as he pressed it further, threatening to spill blood as his patience grew shorter. He had been rough before but never like this, never this intimidating. 

You couldn’t tell whether you wanted more or wanted to run and hide.

“I can take it.” You say quietly, trying to keep your head still. He rewarded your boldness with a smirk, cocking an eyebrow as he started dragging the blade down your chest. 

“I know you can.” Azriel hummed, the knife catching on the fabric of your dress briefly before slicing through it like butter. You felt the cool breeze rush over your skin as he continued his trail downwards. “And if you can’t…I’ll make you.”

“Make me?” You asked suspiciously, gasping when the cold metal came to rest against your bare pussy. He knew exactly the right pressure and angle to make sure you wouldn’t cut yourself but you knew he could change it at any moment. “Azriel, what are you doing? You’re acting different…”

He didn’t acknowledge your question, instead choosing to move his knife away to dip two fingers into your wetness. Your mind instantly zeroed in on the pleasure and you arched your back in need, feeling his shadows vibrate at your reaction. It was a teasing touch, the tips of his fingers barely penetrating your heat and you knew he was doing it on purpose. 

Whatever game he was playing right now, the goal was to drive you insane. 

“I want you,” Azriel murmured, palming his erection through his loose pants as it ached to be inside you. “I want you all to myself. No one else can see you, touch you, they won’t even think of you. You exist for me and me alone.”

“Please, Az, please. I need more.” You whine, only hearing the need for his words but not the tone. It wasn’t his normal, playful voice. It was something much, much darker. “Go harder or faster, please.”

You were so focused on your own pleasure that you didn’t realize the true intent of his words. This had always been a casual thing between the two of you and while yes, Azriel was the only one who made you feel this good, if you would pay more attention you would realize just how far he was willing to go until he was the only one making you whine like this. 

“Say it, mouse. Say it and I’ll make you feel like you never have before.” He purred, a savage grin on his lips as you mindlessly nodded.

“I’m yours, I’ve always been yours Azriel just please fuck me!” You cry out, squirming your hips to try and get him deeper. Before you could blink you felt the shadows around you dissipate and his hands hoist you up to sit. 

A pout formed on your lips but he shushed you, pinching your cheeks between his fingers until your mouth opened from the force. He used his other hand to produce a vial that he had hidden away and before you could jerk away or scream or fight back, Azriel ripped the cork off with his teeth and poured the pink, sparkling liquid down your throat.

He let you go after you had swallowed, stepping back as you swung your fist at him. You were naked, pent up, and pissed off. What the fuck did he just give you?

“What the hell? What did you just make me drink?” You screamed, shoving his chest as he gave you a soft smile, his entire demeanor changing as if he had done nothing wrong.

“I didn’t give you anything that wouldn’t change how you feel about me, mouse.” He comforted, capturing your wrist when you went to hit again and pulling you towards him. You frowned, your head feeling dizzy as you blinked up at him. 

“What do you mean?” You said, your words slightly slurred as time itself seemed to slow down. The anger you had been feeling at his actions was fading fast as you gazed up at him, the ache in your core growing once more. “What’s going on?”

“It was just something to speed up our mating process,” Azriel whispered, lowering his head to ghost his lips over your ear. It made you shiver in anticipation and you whimpered from the throbbing of your clit. “You said you were mine, right mouse? You want to be mine don’t you?”

“I-” You try to speak, words evading you as one of his hands trails down and starts to rub your clit. It felt amazing. Your knees buckled underneath you but he was there to catch you, laying you gently on the bed to kiss down your body. 

“I know you do. Just look at how your body reacts to me…it was made for me to use, to taste, to fuck.” He growled the last part, arriving at your cunt. You didn’t protest as he spread your legs and blew cool air across your wet sex, your hips rising up to silently ask for more. “You were just too stubborn to accept the bond. But it’s okay, baby. I’ve got you now. I forgive you.”

You frowned while trying to make sense of what he was saying but when he licked a hot, rough stripe up your sex you found yourself floating on an island of pleasure. He could do whatever he wanted to you if it meant you could feel this good for the rest of your life. 

Azriel ate you out hungrily, fucking himself into his hand as you whined and cried out underneath him. Your head was tossing back and forth as you had no choice but to succumb to the pleasure he was giving to you. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen and he had no regrets in what he did.

It wasn’t like he drugged you to fall in love. You were already in love with him…you just didn’t know it. The bond was there, hidden underneath your trauma, and all his special concoction did was bring it out for you to finally feel and see.

He just wanted the two of you to be happy.

Your cries got louder as he ran the tip of his tongue back and forth over your clit, pushing two fingers inside of you to increase your satisfaction as he got more desperate. His climax was already building and he wanted you to cum with him, to start what was sure to be an eventful night.

His shadows drifted away from his body and started stroking over yours, goosebumps rising over your skin as they started to twist and pull at your very sensitive nipples. 

The world was blurry and full of colors you had never seen before as your cunt started clenching in desperation, a burning starting in your soul that was quickly taking over your entire body.

“Azriel, Az,” You pant, your hands clenching at the soft blankets underneath you. “Gods, I feel like-like I just-”

“Let go, mouse. Let go for me and feel what I have felt from the moment I saw you.” He urged, doubling down on his motions until you opened your mouth in a silent scream. 

A rush of emotions hit you like a brick, your eyes flying open as that burning in your soul became a thread that was seeking out something. When you felt a tug and a familiar presence you realized it was something, it was someone. 

Azriel.

He felt it as soon as the two of you connected. Everything you were feeling, the absolute rapture you were in, it was making him go feral as the first spurts of hot cum shot out of his cock. It landed all over the sheets, his eyes rolling into the back of his head as he nipped and sucked all of your juices. 

If it were possible to get drunk off of someone’s cum he would swear that was happening, the bond overwhelming all of his other senses. He didn’t even feel you flinch back or weakly push at his head until he heard you whisper his name.

“Az, stop, it’s too much.” You sniffled, your voice hoarse as he begrudgingly pulled away from your pussy to leer over you. His mouth and chin were shining with your juices and despite all that had just happened, he still looked famished.

“Don’t worry mouse, I’m gonna let you rest, okay?” He whispered sweetly into your ear, gingerly picking you up and cradling you to his chest. You didn’t have the strength to fight, your body exhausted, and his scent was more comforting than you remember. It made you feel safe and warm and loved.

You fell asleep quickly, your face buried in his chest as he glanced around your room. Reality was crashing back down and unlike previous times where he was fine leaving you behind with your brother, this time he couldn’t. He wouldn’t.

After months of sex and teasing you were finally his. He had you in his hands literally and he would be damned if anyone took you away from him, even your own brother.

Rhys might be the hardest one to fight for you, actually.

He had to hide you away, keep you safe in a golden cage where you could be with him forever. It was what you wanted, you even said it. He was only doing what you wanted. 

Azriel stood straighter and opened the balcony doors, taking off into the night to somewhere no one would find you. He would keep you safe. He would keep you where you belonged. 

[gothicbabydollz]

You try to run away from dark!Azriel and he's not very happy about it.

Warnings: dark, dubcon, prey/predator vibes, azriel’s a bit delusional

Read at your own risk

↬ 𝐑𝐮𝐧, 𝐫𝐮𝐧, 𝐚𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 ↫

In…

Out.

In…

Out.

Your lungs burn. Each breath feels like sucking down broken glass. You’ve never been one to really care about staying fit, though now you curse yourself for it. Pure adrenaline is all that’s keeping your legs moving. You can’t stop. You can’t rest. There’s no time to spare in this situation.

In all your time spent as his prisoner, locked away. A damsel in distress. Although there’s no knight in shining armour coming to your rescue. Only the beast, who taunts you, watches over you, makes it impossible to every run free.

Until tonight.

So you took your chance, ran off, barefoot and half dressed. Hoping to put as much distance as possible between you and the winged male. He frightens you. A towering bulk of dark skin and even darker features, perfect for blending into shadows. You wonder if he’s watching you know, hiding in the darkness, waiting to strike. Releasing a sob, you push forward. If he wasn’t so…so fucking insane, you would probably yearn for a male like him.

The stray branches are invisible to your eyes, as you try your hardest to keep up pace, whipping through the tree line to possible freedom.

That’s why a surprised shout escapes you when your foot is sliced as you step down on splintered wood. Your hands are next, bracing your landing as you fall forward. Fresh tears soak your cheeks, hot against your skin. “No, no, no, no,” you cry, scrambling to get back on your feet, “Fuck.” Your foot throbs in pain, your palms scuffed, knees bruised. Yet, you keep going, using the trees for support as you limp forward. Your lip bleeds from how hard you bite, trying to keep your sobs at bay. The sound would draw too much attention.

You make it another 10 yards before you feel his presence. The temperature drops to freezing and chills cover the expanse your body. You halt, clamping a hand over your mouth as you cry harder. Knowing you’ve been caught. There’s no use trying to run or trying to hide. The male has told you countless of times how much your scent affects him, how he could sniff you out from miles away.

Something wraps around your bare ankle, wispy yet strong. You don’t get the chance to look before it’s pulling hard. You’re flung back onto the ground from the sheer force it possesses. Dirt, leaves and branches tug at you as you’re dragged along the forest floor. Fingers scrambling for purchase, as pain nips at you from every direction.

You stop. And silence fills the space. You try to push yourself up, eyes darting the surrounding area. As soon as the quiet began, it ends. A large hand grips your shoulder and you squirm as you’re flipped onto your back. “Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” The male glares down at you, venom laced in his voice, that scarred hand of his now squeezing your jaw in a vice like grip. “Stupid girl, you could have been killed. What would I have done then huh? Mates don’t fall from fucking the sky!” He jerks your face, as if trying to shake sense into you. He’s cages you to the ground. His face right above yours. His knee trapped between your thighs, pressing into your core. Heat blossoms reluctantly. Your unconscious attraction makes you sick to the stomach.

Breathing heavily, you glare right back, seething. “I’m not your fucking mate!”

You regret the outburst the moment those words leave your lips. The male goes still…quiet. However you can see the rage bubbling behind his eyes. You can’t help the pathetic sob you let out, truly scared he’s going to kill you and leave you out here for the animals to fight over. “If i was to check right now…would your cunt be wet?”

You almost choke with surprise.

Lips tight and quivering, you shake your head as best as possible. Not trusting your own voice. He grunts, shifting to slip his hand down between your bodies. Your eyes widen, yet all he does is smile down at you. As if he already knows the answer. Your underwear is ripped from your body with ease. You whimper as thick, warm fingers slide through your folds, damp with slick, as expected. The male chuckles darkly. Gotcha. He says with the action.

“That doesn’t mean anything,” You try, involuntarily bucking your hips when the heal of his hand brushes your clit. He plays with your slick, palm grinding purposely against your clit as he speaks, “Oh, but it does. You hate me….but your body doesn’t.” His canines flash in the moonlight streaking through the trees, he’s grinning as he notes your body’s reaction to the stimulation. Your breath turned shallow, brows furrowed, lips parted. “Your body knows your soul intertwines with my own, even if you’re too dumb to realise.” He scoffs, yet leans down, hot breath fanning over your skin as he nears your ear, “Tell me this doesn’t feel good,” He whispers as two fingers slowly sink into your cunt, your walls hugging him immediately.

You can’t stop the way your eyes roll back, or the pleasured sound which leaves your throat. “Let me show you we’re meant to be, bunny,” he says, softer than how he spoke before. His fingers curl against your walls and you mewl, squirming. “Let me show you…and maybe, just maybe i’ll forget the little stunt you pulled tonight.”



[moonlightazriel]

Son of the Darkness XVI /// Azriel X F!Reader

Summary: Hidden for so long The court of shadows thrived, and things were great until the high lord's death, now the next in line should assume the crown of high lord of shadows, will he accept his duties?

Warnings: SMUT and talkings about war.

Word Count: 2,7K

Notes: After so long, SOD is finally back, it feels so good to be writing this again.

Son of the Darkness Masterlist

Main Masterlist

“I must say that I love a good-looking fierce female.” Helion leaned closer to Y/N and she giggled trying to politely shove him away, Azriel raised an eyebrow at that, his wings flaring and he puffed his chest, appearing bigger and scarier as Helion hit on his mate. 

They had retrieved to a banquet room, food was being served and wine was being passed around. Y/N was seated right beside Helion and Azriel was across from them, the High Lords and their courts having nice conversations with each other, the atmosphere was amicable, it almost felt like the meeting hadn't occurred. 

“What are our numbers?” Tamlin asked, trying to make small talk, everyone turned his way, harsh gazes directed at him, he tried to ignore how this made him feel, by sipping on his goblet. 

“Let’s enjoy this feast, we never got to be together like that.” Thesan redirected the conversation to something else, everyone was hiding their numbers, Tamlin could not be trusted, it was a smart move. 

Soon, everyone was walking around, talking with friends they hadn’t seen in a really long time. The sun was setting, casting a golden glow among the stones that composed the room and the people. 

“This place is beautiful.” Y/N whispered, appearing behind Azriel, her voice sounded tired. He turned to her, pulling her closer by the waist.

“Did you like it? I can build one for you.” She looked at him, blushing a bit under his intense gaze, the sun reflected in his eyes, making them look like melted gold.

“No need, I’m perfectly fine with Tornan.” She replied, feeling the light flutter of a thousand butterflies in her stomach as he looked at her. 

Azriel wanted to kiss her, but instead, he pulled her towards the musicians, moving her in an animated dance. Neither of them were that good, bumping into each other but the smile on her face made it all worth it. 

His family watched, Azriel seemed lighter, happier. He deserved all the happiness he could find, and he sure did in the arms of the female who looked at him like he was her whole world. They could smell their bond, so strong, even if it hadn’t snapped yet for her. A match like no other. 

“You’re all welcome to stay here for the night, but you can leave.” Thesan announced. Rhysand’s voice quickly echoed through their minds, telling them he would like to stay. 

Each high lord had the same idea, deciding to stay. Thesan escorted Tamlin out and the Night court walked to their designated chamber. Helion follows them closely. 

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

“The Illyrian legions are ready for war, every single camp was prepared. The dark bringers are joining too.” Rhys stated, spinning the wine in his glass. Helion nodded. 

“My armies are all ready as well. Everyone I could gather.” He looked at Azriel, he was standing in the corner, hugging Y/N from behind, with his arm around her neck. Helion eyed the both of them with lust, the clear smell of arousal made Cassian snort a laughter. “You know you’re always invited to join, Lord of Bloodshed.” He whispered, winking at Cassian. 

“Her legions are ready.” He said he was the High Lord, but the person who spent her whole life getting ready and taking care of his “army” was her, it was only fair to address things properly. 

“55.000 soldiers ready to be transported by the Sephiran coven.” She added that pride emanated from the dark bridge between them, so much pride that leaked through half their bond. 

“We’re marching to war as well.” Evanore, who had watched all evening in her own world, spoke. “For healing and for protecting, if we can gather the armies together, we can bless the weapons.” 

“Cassian and I are going to the Illyrian camps first thing tomorrow morning.” Rhys turned to her. “Maybe you can start there? I can try to help.” Eva nodded. 

“Sounds like a plan.” She happily replied. 

“Then we need to go back home, it’s time for the Nightfall.” The night court members nodded. 

Talking took a little while longer, with Feyre pulling Y/N aside. As soon as they were on the balcony, Feyre smiled at her. 

“I need your help.” She started, not sure how to tell her exactly what the plan was.

“Whatever you need.” Feyre nodded.

“I want Bryaxis by our side.” Y/N’s eyes widened.

“The Soul Seeker?” The female smirked. “That will be interesting. We will do that tomorrow.” Feyre nodded, shared a quick handshake and they went back inside. 

“Do you want to go to sleep, my love?” Azriel asked as she approached, a cute yawn coming out of her mouth as she agreed, they said their goodbyes and marched to the chamber designated to them. 

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

“What is up with Helion? He looked like he wanted to fuck you.” She asked, removing her jewelry and makeup in front of the mirror. 

“It’s his dream to get me and Cassian in his bed.” He approached her from behind, hands pressing the knots in her shoulders. “And now apparently you.” She could hear the jealousy in his voice. 

“Jealous, my High Lord?” Her voice was low and sensual, her pink tongue wetting her lips as she looked at him through the mirror. 

“Maybe.” It was all that he said, his hand wrapped around her throat and he forced her up, kicking the chair to the side. “It’s just that…” His lips started to kiss the skin of her neck, and she let her head fall onto his shoulder, pressing her lips together so she wouldn’t moan. “The thought of you with another male, it’s enough to drive me insane.”

His hand kept pressing her throat, while his other traveled down her body, fingers ghosting over her nipple, which hardened under his touch, the lacy nightgown was also enough to drive him mad. His cock throbbed in his pants, and he pressed it against her ass. 

“Eager, I see?” She teased, Azriel smirked against the skin of her shoulder, only to dip his hand inside her underwear, touching her bare dripping cunt. She shivered, pressing her legs together, arching her back and her ass as she tried to control her breath. Azriel rubbed circles in her clit, sending waves of pleasure through her body. He wanted to taste her so badly. 

He turned her around, almost coming with her expression, eyes squeezed shut, lips parted, and flushed cheeks, he felt proud of being the one making her feel like that. His hands helped her sit on the desk, the contact of her hot skin against the cold surface made her whimper, the sound going straight to Azriel’s cock.

He pulled down her underwear, locking his gaze on her, her expression filled with lust as she watched him kneel in front of her, part her legs open, and dip his head between her legs, tongue licking a stripe along her core, focusing on the apex of her tights while two of his fingers pumped in and out of her. One of her hands tangled in his hair, pulling him even closer to her, while the other held firmly on the desk. 

She whimpered and squirmed, feeling her peak approach her fast as Azriel’s skilled tongue drove her closer to the edge, he flickered his tongue in circles, making her moan loudly. 

“Oh Mother, I’m going to cum.” She blurted it out, how long since someone properly ate her out? She couldn’t even remember, and she didn’t want to, he was the only one who would ever do that again, and he did it so well.

“Come in my tongue, love.” He said, going back to his ministrations, moving his fingers and tongue in synchrony, at an impossibly fast pace. Y/N was violently thrown over the edge. Coming so hard that she felt consciousness slip away from her grasp. Azriel noticed, getting up and pulling her in his arms. Gently carrying her to bed. 

He pulled her under the covers, circling the bed and going to the other side, pulling her to his chest again, she softly snored and he tried to calm his hormones, going to sleep with the taste of her still in his tongue. 

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

“We have to go home soon.” Azriel said, rubbing soap on her back as they shared the shower in the morning. She turned to him, gently applying shampoo on his dark locks, fingers rubbing his scalp and Azriel let out a low groan in pleasure, he loved to have her whining and panting underneath him, but this non-sexual pleasure? Just having her in this intimate way? It was enough to have him giggling and kicking his feet like a little girl. 

“Are you going with Rhys?” He nodded. “I’ll ask someone to take me there, I need to do something with Feyre first.” He hummed in agreement. 

“Maybe Mor can take you.” Y/N whispered a “sure” and they finished their shower. Getting dressed and eating the meal that was sent to their chamber. 

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

“Thank you again for coming with me.” Y/N shook her head, they were all back to the night court, and now she and Feyre were marching down to the bottom of the library. 

“I like him.” It was all that the brunette said. Her scalp tingled as she felt the temperature drop, Feyre squeezed her hand harshly. “Hey, Soul Seeker.” 

“I haven’t heard this name in a long time.” The shadows moved with curiosity. “You’re not from here.” He deduced. “You belong home.” 

“Took a while for you to notice.” She joked and Feyre tried to look at her, feeling the fear sneaking up her spine, she was rigid, afraid to make the wrong move. The shadows moved and the beast chuckled. 

“They fear me here.” Bryaxis stated. 

“Good for you, that our High Lady here has a deal for you.” She nudged Feyre, the female cleared her throat. 

“If you help us in the war, I can get you home.” The beast got agitated with interest. 

“All I have to do is help?” Feyre hummed in agreement. “And how do I get back to the Court of Shadows?” He inquired. 

“The Sephiran.” Y/N replied. 

“Ahhh, the witches. My dearest friends.” The shadows moved and it felt like he was happy. 

“But…” they abruptly stopped. “You will have to follow our rules, and fight for us until we don’t need you anymore, and only then will we bring you home.” The creature watched Y/N, then Feyre, who stood with more confidence. 

“We have a deal then.” The creature said, and both females could feel the burning in their arms, as they reached the light, a drawing of the night sky, the court of the Shadows night sky, marked their skin.

“I’ll ask Amren to help with the restraining spell. Mor will take you to the camps.” Feyre stated as they reached the house of wind. “Thank you for helping me.” 

“I’m always here to aid a friend.” She winked, squeezing Feyre’s hand, the female smiled, going after Amren. 

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

“I hate this place.” Mor stated as she felt the male’s eyes lingered a bit too long on parts they shouldn’t. 

“Males are awful everywhere, I see.” She pointed out, gaining a few more angry gazes as they walked through Windhaven, reaching Devlon’s tent. 

Rhysand sat on the desk, while Cassian discussed strategies with Devlon, who had a very sour expression on his face. 

“Where’s Eva and Azriel?” Y/N asked, earning the attention of the three males. 

“She’s protecting the weapons and he’s with her, for safety.” Rhys gestured for the two to approach. Y/N looked at the Prythian map.

“We should face them in an open field.” Devlon insisted.

“Or we could force them near the sea, here.” Cassian pointed. 

“Some of the summer court members have water abilities, and so do the witches.” The leader of Windhaven shivered at the words. “That beautiful creature out there? One of the most powerful witches ever born.” She proudly spoke of her best friend. 

“Fucking hell.” That was all that he replied. Looking back at the map. 

“Here, we have this mountain and water. This guarantees they can’t attack us from behind. Natural protection.” She crossed her arms. Cassian smiled at her. 

“That’s actually perfect, but how do we get this many people there?” 

“Teleporting!” Evanore said, entering the tent, sweat coated her forehead even in the cold winds of the mountain. “Me and my sisters can teleport all of them, it’s no big deal.” She smiled. 

“Then it’s done.” Cassian circulated the area on the map with a coal pencil. “This is where it all ends.” 

At this same time, Feyre and her sisters entered the tent, Nesta looking around and giving a small smile to Eva and Y/N, while Elain just nodded to everyone, her eyes lingering a little while longer on Azriel, Y/N rolled her eyes at that, deciding to ignore it.

Then, they all felt the shaking of the ground and the air being knocked out of their lungs, like a huge wave of raw magic sweeping over the camp, the terrified looks in their eyes. 

“The wall is gone.” Nesta stated. She had felt it more deeply as they used the cauldron. 

“We need to be fast.” Y/N grabbed Evanore’s hand and they both disappeared through the folds of time. Going home. 

They were met with the witches already waiting at the war camp. “I called them.” Eva explained. 

“ATTENTION.” Y/N yelled, the soldiers falling silent as they reunited in front of their general. “It’s time.” Her voice echoed through the camp, thanks to one of the Sephiran spells. “The war is here and we need to prepare, he trained our whole lives for this. This is the moment.” The soldiers nodded in silence. “Gather your supplies, take your armor. We’re leaving in the morning.” She dismissed them with a wave of her hand. 

The chaos started as soon as they departed, the clinking of metal from the armory being carried around, swords being cleaned and packed. The kitchen packing food to feed an army twice as big. The healers rushed around getting their wagons ready. 

“Someone needs to go back to Prythian and keep blessing their weapons.” Eva told Rune, who just nodded, that she might be the leader and know everything that was happening, but Evanore was the future of the Coven, she wanted to see if her sister had what it took to keep their legacy once Rune couldn’t. 

“I’ll send Thalia and Kharis to bless their weapons. Ellora, Alais, Ryo, and I are going to transport them. You should rest, sister.” Rune advised. 

“Rune is right.” Y/N squeezed Evanore’s shoulder. “You can rest in my tent.” The blond looked at her. 

“What about you?” Her blue eyes were filled with concern. 

“I have too much to do.” She ushered Evanore to her tent, turning to Rune. “We need to take them to the Illyrian war camps.” She felt all the weight on her shoulders, Ryo wrapped her in a hug. “I’m so sorry to ask that from you.” 

“It’s our land too, we will fight for what’s right.” Ellora spoke, her voice was soothing. She squeezed Y/N’s hand. “Everything is going to be fine.” But she wondered if they really would. The fear was clawing at her heart and she felt sick to her stomach. 

“I’ll prepare tea for you.” Alais offered and the female nodded. She needed to calm down if she wanted to make this work.

“Thank you all, for always being kind to me. You’re all a blessing to this land.” Rune smiled at her. The witch was at least 700 years old, but as all the witches did, she looked as young as ever with the red hair and the freckles adorning her face. 

“It’s our pleasure to fight by your side, general.” The witch bowed, Ryo let her go and Alais was next to her with the tea, she sipped quickly, feeling the calming properties of the plant filling her senses. 

She exchanged a quick goodbye to the witches and went to the meeting room, to share her strategies with her soldiers, the sounds of the camp muffled by her powerful voice. 

“I guarantee to you all, we will be the standing ones on that battlefield, we won’t lose this war.”

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Taglist: @allison-rosewood-maximoff @devilsfoodcake22 @fieldofdaisiies @brekkershadowsinger @valeridarkness @margssstuff

[vixenshiftsvrs]

I'm sorry but the unspeakable things I would do to have Eris, Cassian, Azriel, Rhysand, Helion, Casteel, Fenrys, Rowan, Lorcan, Aaron, Cardan and so on... just exist other than between pages is shocking like sweet fuck the things i would let these men do to me

[chanel-23]

Does anyone know which movie/series this is

[arcturustarlight]

So.

This is the vibe.

Anyone want the fic??

It's already written, i only have to proofread it.

[tadpolesonalgae]

Fear of the Cold[***]

Dark!Ghost!Azriel x reader

Synopsis: after tormenting you for a month, slowly driving you closer to insanity, he finally makes his appearance. Eager to claim you after being denied for so long.

warnings: noncon, dark!az, fingering, strong references to past noncon

a/n: I was struggling with some writer’s block, so of course I ended up coming back here

word count: 3,124

-Fear of the Dark-

——————————————————————————————————————————————

The small cardboard box remains tucked in your pockets at all times, boxes of matches stocked in every room, easily available should the night…find you again.

The house—once deceptive with its semblance of warmth—is now barren and cold. Unlived in and alone. No matter how clean, or how messy you make it, you struggle recall which side of the barrier you lie on. After his visit, crossing into your own world where he should have been unable to, you worry he’d somehow been pulling you under.

You’d thought you were above the ice, but maybe you’re already below it, trapped beneath a layer thin enough to see through but not thin enough to break. Slowly drowning, not even an inch from an unbreakable surface.

Every time a stray draft breezes by, you feel a phantom touch on your throat, like the gentle drag of scar-roughened fingers, stroking placatingly against the fur of a pet. As if it will be some kind of reassurance.

He hasn’t appeared since that night—almost a month ago by now—yet you feel no further away from him. Like you’re trying to run up the snow-capped mountains, but the ground beneath you just slips out from under your feet, pulling you back down into his cold, dead embrace. Sometimes you wake drenched in sweat, lungs aching as if hands had been wrapped around them, squeezing the life from them, to hurry you over onto his side. Other times it’s nothing as overt; when once you had been met with confusion upon not being able to locate a familiar object, now you’re met with dark resign, knowing he’s been moving things again. Moving plates right before you, dragging salt shakers across the table, chandeliers swinging slightly when you know there is no breeze in your house.

Though by far the worst was when you’d been on the verge of sleep one night, tiredly making it to your bed to change. You’d pulled back the covers and found a night gown laid out for you, warmed beneath the sheets. Pale and diaphanous, so sheer it was ghostly, lace wound at its hem like cobweb. You don’t possess anything like that. All your clothes conceal skin, keep it warm against the harsh bite of the desolate mountains, hide it from phantom eyes that watch from the dark.

————

The day is coming to its end, though the constant grey of the skies makes that difficult to tell, every shade blending into the next one, keeping you pithing an inescapable loop. Sometimes you wonder if time is passing at all.

Fatigue weighs on your lids as you stand to put away your plate, making to move to the sink when the porcelain in snatched from your fingers and shattered against a wall, pale shards glittering on the floor boards. A breath hisses beside your ear, skin prickling with cold beneath the harsh exhale, and you freeze. Hands shaking as you stare at the shattered plate, replaying what had happened in the blink of an eye with painful scrutiny. There had been no warning, no dancing shadow nor a drop in temperate—just volatile aggression searing up from nowhere.

You swallow heavily, eyes frenetically dancing through the room, searching, searching for some kind of cause, a way you might be able to predict him in the future, but there isn’t so much as a mote of dusk out of place. Not even an awareness ticking at the back of your mind, no feeling of being watched.

“Leave me alone,” you whisper, softer than a breath.

A slam comes from deep with in your house, like a cellar door being whipped shut, able to feel its vibrations through the bare soles of your feet. Reverberating up into your bones. You turn about skittishly, eyes darting to one side of the room then the next in the same second, frantically searching for him so you don’t have to keep guessing, anticipating where he’ll come from next, what more havoc he’ll wreak to subject you to his kind of fear.

A cold breeze kisses up your throat, and it’s the only sign you need to start running, bolting from the room, plate forgotten as you race through the halls. You have no goal in mind, just desperate to flee from him, to escape his hunting grounds, but your heart continues pounding, passing by doors closing as you near them, the heavy metal grating noise as bolts are slid into place on the other sides, curtains hissing shut as your feet hit the floor, drawers shaking as you keep pushing forward, unknowingly corralled, herded in your own home.

You should have known where you’d end up.

It’s the bedroom on the highest floor you reach, frantically running inside as you chase the illusion of safety, slamming the door behind you and locking it with surprising swiftness.

You stumble back into the room, arms shaking, heart pounding, breath misting as it cools in the air, surprisingly cold for indoors—too cold. You turn around to look over the room, to find all the windows either open or smashed. Shards of broken glass line the outskirts of the chamber, ice frosting the windowsills, floorboards slightly snowy. The room looks wrecked.

A force builds at your back, but you don’t even have the time to turn before something is wrapping over your hips, pressing hard against your back, keeping you in place. You don’t need to turn though to know who it is, and as the final dark grey of day melts into the inky black of night, a small part of you crumbles.

“Leave me alone,” you breathe into the darkness, kept incapacitated by his iron hold on your body. Ice kisses against the shell of your ear, and your breath hitches, trembling beneath his touch. The darkness shakes at your back, and you’re certain he’s laughing, ghastly stuttering breaths brushing over the nape of your neck, before frozen lips graze the intimate expanse of skin.

“You can’t do this again,” you whisper, trying to unstick your limbs, but you feel a pressure over your sternum—a hand gliding up slowly between your breasts, fingertips brushing at your throat before gripping lightly.

“So warm,” he breathes, pulling you deeper into his deadened embrace, nosing at your cheek. “So alive.”

“Azriel, stop,” you whisper, shaky palms trying to pry his corporeal touch from your skin—to no avail. He’s stronger than you even after death. Even as a ghost. Phantom. Whatever he is now. A wraith.

“You can’t do this again,” you breathe, pressure building behind your eyes. “I beat you. I won. You can’t come back.”

“I came back for you,” he returns, icy lips curving in a cruel smile against your soft skin. “You can’t escape from me, little thing. You should know that. I’ll always come back for you.”

“I don’t want you to!” You whisper, squeezing your eyes shut, trying to squirm at least enough to reach your pockets. The smallest amount of light will be enough. You have to believe it will be enough. Just one match, struck against cardboard.

It took him down once. It can take him down again.

“So warm,” he murmurs, fingers stroking across your skin, his forearm tightening across your middle, pulling you back into his body, cold enough to be hewn from the same stone these mountains are made of. Jagged, icy, and utterly deadly. Too much for you to ever handle. “You’re so warm,” he repeats, voice shaking with something that sounds almost like reverence. He inhales slowly, breath trembling as his head dips, mouth tracing the elegant curve of your throat, and you manage to shove your hands into your pockets, fingers fumbling with the small box.

“Azriel…” you breathe out softly as his lips graze your neck. “I…missed you…”

He falters at the whispered confession, and you shove away from him, whipping round as you strike the match.

Flame sizzles feebly to life, but it’s more than enough, casting the room in a faint glow as you use your body and hand to shield it from stray breezes that’ll wash in from the shattered windows. You can’t even swallow as you meet his gaze again, cold and unforgiving as it takes you in.

“You don’t belong in this world,” you whisper, fingers trembling but you keep a hold of the match. Even if it burns your skin, you’ll hold on to this small light you have. “Go back to where you came from.”

Shadows swarm over his shoulders, building higher, denser, wreathing his wings and making him into something much larger, impossibly more deadly as he looms, flame casting a shadow on the back wall that does not match his silhouette.

Azriel shakes his head, displeasure lining his features, angered by the trick.

“Did you not learn last time?” He mutters lowly, and you stumble when he steps forward closer to the flame. You retreat, legs shaking as he encroaches further, pushing you back into the room, pushing you further from the door, your only escape back into what feels now like the world of the living.

“Fire can’t hurt me anymore.”

The darkness surges forward, smothering the flame in the blink of an eye. So fast that you barely clock as he crowds your space, palms biting into your shoulders, icy mouth crushing down upon your own, shadows pushing you tighter, squeezing you together until there isn’t even an inch of space to be found between your bodies. The box of matches falls to the floor, useless and discarded, his boot crushing down on them as he swallows you whole in his shadows.

You writhe, trying to pull against him, trying to squeeze your hands between you, to push at him, to claw, scratch and scrape, anything to get him away. You can’t do this again. But he’s entirely dominating, mouth hungrily devouring you, tongue stroking against your own as his hips press flush with yours. His hand tangles in your hair, arm banding around your lower back, palm settling over the curve of your hind, squeezing as he growls against your mouth.

Azriel pulls away for a moment, only to lower his mouth to your throat, teeth sharper than icicles as he nips and bites, pushing marks into your skin that you’ll have to face in the morning. A reminder of his presence. How you’ll never escape him.

You cry out as he tears himself off you, able to hear his deep breathing, hungry for more, tired of waiting, and he shoves you backward. Shadows flit about the mattress as you fall back on it, at once attempting to scramble away but those dark tendrils bind your wrists, lightly tugging, keeping you from escaping too far as he prowls onto the bed. Your heart pounds as his fingers skate up your ankle, brushing over your shins, taking your night gown with them.

“Azriel stop,” you demand shakily, trying to press away, trying to press tighter into the headboard, to press further from his touch. “You can’t—…you can’t do this again.”

“Watch me,” he murmurs softly, palm tipping the fabric over the curve of your knee, so it slides up your thighs, pooling at your hips. “You’ll enjoy it even more than last time. I promise,” he whispers, a faint curve to his hellish mouth. “We can go slow…” He pushes your legs apart, and you shiver beneath him, teeth chattering slightly in the cold, under the iciness of his touch.

“What would—…what would your brothers think?” You manage out, trying desperately to dissuade him. “You know they wouldn’t forgive you.”

If he won’t listen to your words, maybe someone else will have a sway with him. But he chuckles lowly, hand cupping your jaw, thumb stoking over the crest of your cheek and you sink into the pillows in attempts to hide from him. “If they knew the kind of strain you put me under,” he murmurs over your lips, “the kind of pleasure you bring. They would have buckled long before.”

“You’re disgusting,” you breathe, and his eyes gleam in the dark, practically glowing with predatory hunger. “You know you enjoyed it last time,” he taunts quietly, hand vacating your jaw, trailing down your collar bones, fingers grazing your breast, their pads circling your nipple lightly, before continuing down. “Practically soaked me. You can’t lie to me, little thing. I know you too well.”

You flush with humiliation at the reminder, shame tasing foul at the back of your throat, because he’s right. A repulsively large part of you had enjoyed it. He’d taken you over the edge more times than you could count, each orgasm turning your mind numb, making your muscles spasm with liquid pleasure.

“You’re going to hell, Azriel,” you say softly, lower lip wobbling as your heart pounds, his hand settling between your thighs. His cruel mouth curves. “I did,” he replies, “when you tried to send me away from you, I found out what it was like.” His fingers stroke down your centre and breath mists before you as you inhale sharply, exhaling heavily, breath stuttering as he plays with you, prodding at your entrance. “But I survived, didn’t I?” He smiles, tendrils of shadow curling beneath your night gown, pulling it further out of the way, pulling you further down, until you’re entirely trapped beneath him. “I survived, and came back for you,” he breathes, “my love.”

“I’m not your love,” you spit vehemently, eyes gleaming with wetness as tears well, despite your attempts to blink them away. “You’re messed up in the head. Whatever you think love is—it’s repulsive.”

His fingers slide in, and your lips part, hazel glinting as he devours your expression, how your spine arches a little.

“Then what does that make you, hm?” He muses softly, long fingers curling inside of you, “as someone who’s receiving it.” His thumb presses to your clit, and you squirm, tears spilling over as you try to shift away, hips winding as you struggle to move. “Fuck, stop it,” you cry, shadows allowing your hands to slip free, to find placement on his broad shoulders, fists slamming against them repeatedly as he works you with a familiarity even dying couldn’t remove from him.

Even the searing burn of fire couldn’t purge him of his malevolence.

“Stop it?” He hums, as if it amuses him, fingers scissoring inside of you, watching how you gasp at the ministrations, giving reactions that only sing to the pleasure you’re feeling, heat beginning to dawn across your skin, liquefying between your thighs. “I think you’re enjoying it quite a lot.” His fingers pull out, and you pant in the silence, eyes squeezed together as you treasure the reprieve, hoping he’ll leave now. Now that he’s taken something from you again. It should be enough.

Your eyes crack open when you hear those wet noises, soft and saturated as he licks your flavour from his fingers, humiliation unfurling in your abdomen, and you turn your head to the side, again closing your eyes in attempts to block him out. Digging your nails into his shoulders.

“You taste wonderful,” he chuckles lowly, before cold palms are pushing your thighs apart again, and you brace for the intrusion of his fingers, but instead—

“Azriel!” You almost scream, voice too hoarse to reach that volume, tears becoming heavier as his mouth seals over your cunt, the ice of his tongue contrasting with the heat that’s gathered between your legs. “Azriel, stop!” You cry frantically, hands moving to try and push him off, to grab at his soft hair and pull him away, but he groans when your nails drag over his skin, grinding his hips into the mattress, and you stop almost instantly.

His tongue swirls over your clit, suckling gently, teeth occasionally scraping, just to keep you on edge, his shadows wrapped over your waist, flooding across your chest, seemingly eager to play with your breasts. How they pinch and rub at your nipples, giving light tugs as if in reprimand for attempting to banish him.

“Azriel, please,” you beg, though you can hear the slight breathlessness to your voice, horror coiling in your gut. It can’t happen again. He can’t make it feel right again. His pleasure is disgusting, a cruel manipulation of what it should be, contorting into something it’s not.

His rough palm wrap over the top of your thigh, forcing you wider so he can slide his fingers back in, and a moan has spilled out before you can stop it.

You want to slap your hand over your mouth, but the shadows pin your wrists to the bed, more pleasured noises gasping from your throat as he rubs against those spots inside of you, fingers gently stimulating parts that make you tremble. Arousal fills the room, and you can feel the weight of his attention of you as he pushes you further, delighting in the slow climax he’s bringing you to, dragging it out as long as he can bear, after being denied of you for so long.

Heat swells beneath his touch, and your back bows from the mattress as he curls his fingers, as if beckoning you forward to tip over that edge. His tongue swipes over your clit, swirling with more pressure, and the pleasure breaks, crashing down as you squirm beneath his touch, toes curling as you try to scramble away. “Az—Azriel! Stop! I can’t…!”

He pays you no mind, eager to taste your high, licking up every drop of arousal as it fills his mouth, starved away for too long for him to allow you the mercy of a reprieve.

Overstimulation hits you hard, back curving as you gasp heavily, clawing at him in a way you know he finds pleasurable, but do out of instinct, trying to escape the high he’s forcing you through.

Azriel only pulls away once you’ve stopped scrambling, taking in the hot flush of your body, the arousal that’s slicking your thighs, that’s sitting on his tongue. He could continue for the entire night, but he doesn’t want to spoil anything for you. He has his own events planned out, and he needs you to digest this night first, before he can progress. He knows if he moves too quickly you might simply fall apart in his hands, and then he would be left with nothing.

But if he takes his time, gently stretching you out, delicately putting his pleasure into your body—then you will bend and buckle to his shape. Then he will be able to have you as he pleases.

At last feel your warmth encompass him entirely.

——————————————————————————————————————————————

general taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @slut4acotar @sfhsgrad-blog @needylilgal022 @hannzoaks @hnyclover @skyesayshi @nyotamalfoy @decomposing-writer @soph1644 @lilah-asteria

az taglist: @azrielshadows1nger @jurdanpotter @positivewitch @nightcourt-daydreaming @assassinsblade @marvelouslovely-barnes @v3lv3tf0x @kalulakunundrum @vellichor01 @throneofsmut @vickykazuya

dark!az taglist: @honeyandhalfmoons

[a-court-of-smut-and-wingspan]

Another short snippet from the Dark Azriel smut I’ve been working on…

Warning: Light Knife play, CNC, mentions of kidnapping.

“You’re so wet for me already, baby.” he smirks up at you before flipping the blade around and running the handle up and down your inner thigh. When you shiver he lets out a small laugh. “It’s almost like you want this, baby. Does my knife turn you on?”

Your breath hitches as you begin to shake your head back and forth. “No, please. I’m scared.”

“Your mouth says one thing,” he drags the handle down your wet center causing you to gasp, “but your cunt says something entirely different. Perhaps you’re a bigger whore than I had originally thought. It’s ok though, be a good girl for me and I won’t tell your mate a thing.”

Without further warning he pushed the handle into you. The intrusion caused you to whimper and to your surprise he took a moment to let you adjust before he began to thrust it in and out. You try to hold back your moans, but it’s not long before you find yourself crying out in pleasure as he continues to work you.

“My good girl,” he coos, “You take my knife so well. Are you going to take my cock this well?”

“Mmm, please,” you’re breathless as he picks up the pace.

“Please what, baby? Tell me what you want.”

“I need you,”

Abruptly, he pulls the handle out of you and you watch transfixed on his mouth as he licks it. “Gods, baby. You taste absolutely divine. I might just have to keep you for myself. I’ll take you to my rooms in the Hewn City and hide you away where no one will find you.”

[autumnshighlady]

Run For Your Life (pt. 2)

Dark!Azriel x dark!reader

summary: you've been with Azriel for 6 months now, and you began to embrace your twisted side. Azriel finds out what happens with you're pissed off, and you decide to punish him.

special dedication to @febbrile for giving me this idea for part 2

warnings: DARK FIC! both Az and reader are unhinged psychos, sub!azriel, dom!reader, flirting, possessiveness, knife play, orgasm denial, masturbation, face sitting, gore and violence, terrible communication, there's one thing that's deliberately left unclear (send me an ask with what you think it is / what actually happened)

word count: 8.7k

see the playlist for this fic

read part 1 here

A/N: As you may know, i've had a very rough few days. I was going to take a break from writing but decided to finish this fic up first, so the last 500 ish words are rushed and i apologize for that but i hope you enjoy anyway

DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE

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“I’m going to have so much fun with you.” He purred before his shadows encompassed him and he vanished, leaving you alone wondering what just happened.

SIX MONTHS LATER

You tapped your nails on the wooden bartop, scowling. The whiskey burned your throat, but you barely felt it. You were pretty sure a male from a few seats down from you was trying to get your attention, but his yappy voice faded into the background. The skin tight black dress you donned was constricting, making your skin sticky and sweaty. But you paid it no mind, for your attention was elsewhere.

Azriel was chatting with a pretty female over by the counter where you order food. She was tall and leggy, curly black hair swept into an elegant updo that showed off the open back of her dress. Her hand was brushing against Azriel’s arm, her head thrown back in a high pitched laugh at a joke that surely can’t have been that funny. Anger shot through your veins as Azriel’s white canines flashed in a charming smile, not even glancing your direction.

You couldn’t decide whose throat you wanted to slit more.

For the past six months, Azriel’s visits had become an everyday routine. At first, you had resisted, attempting to fight him off as you began to realise one night wasn’t enough to satisfy his obsession with you. He always emerged victorious, always getting what he wanted in the end, your traitorous body urging you to let him take care of you. It had taken you a few weeks to come to your senses, but you were glad. Azriel knew exactly how to take care of you, not just in the bedroom, but in everyday life. He chose your outfits for you, your meals, your nights out, everything. At first, you hated it. But now, it was freeing. You no longer had to worry about anything, knowing Azriel would take care of it.

Azriel took excellent care of things that belonged to him.

Every cell in your body needed him now. He was like oxygen, a constant requirement to keep your body going. Every second the shadowsinger spent away from you was pure torture, leaving you a whiny mess when he returned from work. To anyone else, it would seem pathetic, like you were a helpless wreck of a female. But they couldn’t be more wrong. It was the opposite – it made you powerful. Not only did you belong to Azriel, but Azriel belonged to you. You had the spymaster of the Night Court all to yourself, wrapped around your finger and ready to bend the world to your whim. 

Except it didn’t feel that way right now, as the male you were now completely obsessed with was eyeing up the cleavage on another female. You scowled harder as he did nothing to deter the female as she stepped even closer to him, practically crawling into his lap. The bartender handed you another shot, and you angrily downed it, not even feeling the burn.

A male slid into the seat next to you, so close you could smell his cheap cologne. He was on the shorter side, blonde shaggy hair framing his boyish face. Large eyes drank in your figure hungrily, and he slid a hand up your back with the confidence of a much more attractive male. “Another drink for the lady over here.” He said to the bartender, flashing you what he must have thought was a charming smile. “So, what’s a pretty female like you doing–”

“Fuck off.” You grumbled, interrupting him. You reached behind and slapped his arm off your back, his skin like a wad of slime on your own.

“Oh, come on, baby,” The male persisted. “I just bought you a drink. The least you could do is entertain me.”

You groaned inwardly, sneaking a glance at Azriel. He had finally looked up at you, hazel eyes simmering with rage. The female leaning against him was too busy giggling to notice that his attention was no longer on her. His scarred hand was limp on her waist, his body frozen as he glared at you. It made you snort, how hypocritical he was being to only look at you when another male had your attention, despite him being the one with a female draping herself all over him.

So you ignored the shadowsinger. Let him have a hissy fit, as far as you were concerned he was going to fuck the pretty female anyway. If he can branch out, why can’t you. You quickly downed the drink the bartender sat in front of you, then turned toward the blonde male next to you, giving him your best sultry look. “I have a better idea,” You purred. “Why don’t I entertain you somewhere else?”

His eyes widened, a look of surprise and glee crossing his face as he fumbled to toss some money to the bartender for the drinks. You gathered your purse, turning around to meet Azriel’s stare once again. Rage came off him in waves, causing the few fae around him to scatter themselves elsewhere. Even the female that had been all over him had taken a step back in uncertainty, her eyes flickering between him and where his gaze was fixed – you. The spymaster’s body was frozen, a muscle in his neck twitching in anger. You half expected him to storm over and fling the male aside, grab you by the waist and drag you home to punish you. But he did no such thing. He only glared at you as you grabbed the male by the arm, leading him towards the exit.

You didn’t glance back at Azriel as the male followed you out of the bar and down the road towards the nearby motel.

**********************

Sunlight crept in through the small window next to the bed. The motel’s breakfast was dry and tasteless on your tongue, but you downed it anyway. The bed sheets were half on the floor, your dress from last night draped across the chair in the corner. You were wearing the male’s button-up shirt, the itchy fabric pungent with his scent mixed with yours, the bottom barely long enough to cover your ass. It was uncomfortable, but your dress got ruined last night anyway. You’d have to find somewhere to dispose of it properly.

You had a pounding headache, but the memories from last night couldn’t have been more clear. The images of Azriel’s angry glare, the male’s hands on your body, the pathetic noises he made for you after you left the bar, they were all crystal clear in your mind. You were still furious with Azriel, but satisfied that you got him back.

However, a part of you knew he was angrier than ever before. There had not been a trace of his presence all night, not even his shadows that seemed to always be around you, reporting your every movement back to him. Evidently, he hadn’t even tried to find out where you had gone last night. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t nervous – either Azriel had abandoned you completely, or he was sitting at home, just waiting for you to return.

You shuddered, wondering what he was going to do to you. Maybe he truly would leave you for the other female, maybe that’s how mad he was.

No. You weren’t going to let him do that.

You downed the rest of the breakfast, gathering your things to get ready to check out. You sighed when you realised you had no pants, as the only thing the male had left behind was his undershirt. You stuffed your ruined dress in a paper bag, shut off the lights and left the motel room, not caring that your ass was nearly on display for the world to see.

First stop was to find some pants, and then you had business to take care of.

**********************

Luckily, it didn’t take you long to find a store to obtain some pants. Everyone had stared at your bare legs as you wandered in, but you didn’t care. In fact, it made you chuckle. If Azriel was here, he would have gone ballistic. He was the only one allowed to see you like this. If he knew that over a dozen people had seen your ass cheeks in the last hour, you couldn’t even imagine what he’d have done.

With a set of pants, you had returned to the bar, posing as a friend of the female Azriel was with last night and trying to find out more about her. The mother seemed to be on your side that day, as one of the bartenders was a close friend of hers. He blabbed easily, and within minutes you were able to find out her name, where she usually went on Saturday mornings like this one, and where she lived. Her name was Beatrice, and she always went to the farmer’s market every weekend to pick up fresh vegetables for the week. She lived in a house near the theatre, right in the heart of the city.

So you wandered towards the farmer’s market, hair down and hanging loosely around your face to hide it. The air was crisp and fresh, chatter from the market filling the air as you hovered in the corner, pretending to sift through a barrel of apples.

It wasn’t hard to spot Beatrice. Her curly black hair was trailing down her back, her cheeks flushed with evidence of a hangover. She wore a simple pair of black leggings and a yellow sweater, a cheerful smile on her face as she chatted with one of the vendors. It was almost annoying how she looked just as elegant as she had last night. You made sure to trail her from a distance, staying out of her sight. You wondered if Azriel would be proud, but shook off the thought as soon as it came. 

Once you were sure Beatrice only had a few more things to pick up at the market, you slunk down one of the alleys and headed towards her house. You knew it was the fastest way, allowing you to get to her house before she did.

It was a modest home, sunflowers lining the windowsill and a small swing on the porch. The trim was a deep brown, the wooden accents giving it a charming feel. You crept towards one of the windows along the side of the house, sneaking a glance behind you to ensure nobody was watching. You knew breaking into a house in one of the busiest parts of the city was risky. But that was also the beauty of it – there was so much going on that nobody paid attention to you.

It wasn’t hard to take a small knife and pop open the window then crawl through. You gently closed it behind you, then scanned the interior. You were in the living room, and you couldn’t deny that it impressed you. An elegant piano was in the corner, a large couch next to it with a soft-looking blanket with butterflies on it draped over the top. Various trinkets were scattered across the room, ranging from ancient-looking candle holders to a small music box designed to look like a bird cage. 

You couldn’t scent Azriel in the room, much to your surprise. But that surprise was replaced by anger – if he hadn’t taken her here, then he could have taken her to his home. The thought made you see red, but you took deep breaths and settled yourself on the sofa. Beatrice would be home any minute.

About ten minutes later, the sound of keys turning the lock at the door snapped your attention back to the present. The door opened, and Beatrice entered with a large bag of vegetables. She didn’t notice you at first, closing the door behind her and turning the lock shut.

“You know, you should really lock your windows too.” You spoke casually, and the female whirled around in fright, dropping her groceries. Her brown eyes widened in fear as they met yours, and you smirked.

“What… who the hell are you and why are you in my living room?” Beatrice stammered, backing herself up against the door.

You snorted, fiddling with the necklace you had picked up off the coffee table. It was the one she was wearing last night, you remembered – a gold chain with a small emerald. “Oh, come on,” You snorted. ‘You clearly didn’t have that much to drink last night, seeing as you were able to grocery shop this morning. Think harder.”

She frowned, and then her face went slack as the realisation appeared to hit. “You were at the bar last night. I saw you leave with that blonde male. Azriel was furious about it.”

Bingo. “Ah, so you know Azriel then.”

“Not really. We met last night and flirted. It was going well until he saw you with that male, then things got tense.”

Your voice was cold as ice as you spoke. “So Azriel flirted back, then?”

Beatrice shrugged. “Yes? I see no issue with that considering you left with another male, I assumed you weren’t together. Would you mind telling me what the fuck is going on so you can leave?”

“Come, sit.” You patted the space next to you. Beatrice stayed still for a moment, then carefully walked over to the couch. Her body was tense as she sat down, her breathing shallow.

“Look,” She said slowly. “I don’t know what the deal between you two is. I thought he was available, because he flirted back with me. He did not mention you, and I am sorry about that. But then he went quiet when he saw you with the male, and he was furious when you left with him. He tried to keep flirting with me after, tried to convince me to let him come home with me, but I turned him down. I wasn’t about to be caught up between some weird power struggle between what seems to be a fighting couple. And I sure as hell wasn’t going to let him use me as revenge. So I rejected his advances and went home alone. That’s all, I promise.”

You swallowed the bile in your throat. Azriel had started this by flirting with Beatrice, you had every reason to retaliate. You knew Azriel probably wanted to take her home, but hearing it out loud made it even worse. 

Your face must have given it away, because Beatrice’s expression softened a bit. “I’m sorry, I really am. This must be hard to hear.” She said quietly. “But in his defence, you went home with another male–”

“Shut up!” You yelled, slamming a fist into the table in front of you and making it shake. “Don’t defend him, I wouldn’t have gone home with that male if Azriel hadn’t been flirting with you first.”

Beatrice flinched away from you, fear beginning to creep back into her expression once again as she stood up. “I’m sorry,” She said. “I’m not here to judge you. I don’t want any part of this. But I’ve explained my side to you, so I think it’s best you leave.”

Beatrice walked over to where her groceries lay all over the floor and began picking them up. You bit your lip so hard you nearly drew blood, fist trembling with anger. You knew you should feel relieved that Azriel hadn’t fucked Beatrice, but that wasn’t enough.

So you took deep breaths, relaxing your body and leaning back into the soft cushion. “I’m better, you know.” You said, voice dropping huskily.

The female froze, turning around to face you once again. “What?”

“I’m better than Azriel.” 

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Oh, I think you do.” Your voice purred like a cat as you stood up, walking over to Beatrice. She didn’t move as you closed in on her space, your body less than a foot from hers. You could smell her sweet scent, honey and lavender, you noted. Her chest rose and fell in shallow breaths, and you leaned forward to whisper in her ear. “Azriel is good in bed, but not as good as I am. Sure, he would have given you an enjoyable night, a great one even. And since Azriel is mine, and he failed to give you what you sought after, I feel I am obligated to fulfil your needs in his stead.”

Beatrice inhaled sharply, and you chuckled. You had always enjoyed bedding both males and females, and it had been so long with you submitting to Azriel that you had almost forgotten what it was like to seduce a beautiful female.

“I don’t want to get caught up in whatever this is between you two…” Beatrice’s voice was weak, the scent of her growing arousal betraying her lie.

“Oh, but this is just between you and me.” You said coolly, brushing a curly lock from her face. “Our little secret.”

When you cupped her cheek, she leaned into your touch. Satisfied, you smiled and stepped closer, pressing your body against hers. Your lips brushed hers as you spoke. “I need to hear you say it,” You murmured, caressing her waist with your free hand. “That you want me. Not him.”

“I…” Beatrice’s voice was barely above a whisper. She leaned forward in an attempt to connect her lips with your own, but you drew back.

“Be a good girl and say it.”

“I want you, not him.” She moaned as you squeezed her waist gently. “Please.”

You smiled, grabbing her hand and pulling her towards the door at the back where you knew her bedroom was.

**********************

The sun was setting as you made your way back home, a small bag of vegetables in hand. The orange rays from the sunset reflected off the emerald necklace, the chain cold as ice around your neck. You knew Azriel would be waiting for you, and you were ready. You ignored the chill of the wind, still in the male’s shirt whose name you never bothered to learn. It offered you little protection against the cold, and you looked forward to the warmth of your home.

Stepping up to your door, the house looked empty. It was an illusion to anyone who walked by. You could sense Azriel’s presence in there, like an icy frost on the wood just waiting to bite you. But you didn’t care what Azriel’s wrath would bring. You had your own plan. 

You swung open the door, locking it behind you and placing the bag of vegetables on your counter.

“Would you mind telling me where the fuck you’ve been?”

Having expected him to make a dramatic out-of-the-dark entrance, you didn’t flinch like you used to when he’d sneak up on you. You sighed in annoyance, knowing it’d infuriate him more. “Farmer’s market.” You said dryly.

Azriel’s towering form appeared from the shadows, coming across to face you on the other side of the counter. You knew he was glaring at you, but you didn’t spare him a glance. “From sunup to sundown?” He demanded.

You shrugged, laying out the vegetables. “It was a busy farmer’s market.”

A shadow found its way to your chin, yanking it up and forcing you to look at him. The sight of Azriel made you gulp. His eyes were darker than you’d ever seen, the anger coming off of him in waves. If you were anyone else, you’d have cowered in fear. But you only raised an eyebrow. “Don’t lie to me.” He said icily. “You were with that male last night, were you with him today, too?”

“Why the fuck does it matter to you?” You spat. “You were too busy burying your dick inside that female to notice me. Not my fault someone else finished what you couldn’t.” The words were completely untrue, but you didn’t care. You just needed them to land their mark.

Azriel laughed heartlessly, but the anger in his eyes grew stronger. “Are you really that fucking pathetic that I’m not allowed to take my attention off of you for five minutes? Is that all it takes for you to go crawling to the nearest male ready to get fucked?”

“She was flirting with you, you absolute prick!” You screamed at him, ripping away from the shadow’s grip and storming towards the bedroom. “And you flirted back! Don’t act like you’re the victim here. You wanted to make me jealous, but what? You didn’t think I was capable of doing the same?”

Azriel followed you. “Don’t walk away from me.”

You tried to slam the door in his face, but his muscular arm caught it, easily prying it open. Azriel roughly grabbed you and slammed you into the wall. You tried to wriggle out of his grip, but he didn’t budge. “You’re the one who fucked someone else, not me.” He growled. 

You chuckled manically. “Is that what you think happened, Az?”

His grip tightened, bruising your arms. “Don’t play dumb, you stupid whore. I saw you leave with him.”

You kept chuckling, body singing with adrenaline. You saw Azriel’s gaze go down to your body, where an unmistakably male shirt clung to you. The look in his eyes was positively murderous. Wordlessly, he let go of you and you fell to the ground, continuing to laugh at him as he went towards the door. 

“Where are you going?” You asked through giggles.

Azriel grabbed truth-teller from his waist, turning to face you. “You have one chance to tell me where that male is, or I will find him myself.”

You pushed yourself up, sighing and letting out another sick laugh. Excitement bubbled in you as you spoke. “I’m not sure there will be much left of him to find.”

For the first time since you’d met him, Azriel’s eyes widened in surprise. He went utterly still, hand frozen on the door handle. Nothing moved, except for you. You were practically buzzing, a new kind of high taking over you. 

“What are you talking about?” Azriel’s voice was low.

**********************

The male’s hands were all over you as you walked towards the motel. You resisted the urge to squirm away at his teenager-like giddiness. You didn’t feel the cold night air, your body was hot with adrenaline.

“I can’t wait to fuck you, baby.” The male said breathlessly, squeezing your ass with one hand. 

You let out a fake laugh, but lead him off the cobblestone road. The motel was a few feet away, but that wasn’t where you wanted to take him. Your heels sunk into the mud, dirtying your feet as you headed towards the dark trees in the distance. You felt the male slow behind you.

“Aren’t we going to the motel?” He asked with uncertainty.

“What fun would that be?” You grabbed his hand and pulled him harder. “Come on, trust me.”

The moron just shrugged and continued to follow you. It was another ten minutes before you found a clearing, having nearly tripped over giant roots to get there. This place would do nicely, you decided.

You turned around to face the male, but his shirt was already off and he was in the process of unbuttoning his pants. “Adventurous!” He said excitedly. “I am so fucking hard baby, if you don’t get on your knees and do something about it now I think I might die.”

“Yes,” You said, sliding the knife out of the holster on your thigh. “You will.”

The male barely had a chance to speak before you brought the dagger up and slashed it across his face. Blood spurted from the nasty gash as he fell down, sobbing and clutching his face. His pants were down at his knees, a truly pathetic sight.

“There’s only one male allowed to touch me,” You said calmly. “And if he found out you laid your hands on me, he would do much worse to you than what I’m going to do. So be grateful.”

The male sobbed, pleading and begging pathetically for you to spare his life. But you weren’t phased. After all, your words were true. Nothing you did to him could compare to what Azriel would have done. You were proud of yourself for granting him this mercy. You didn’t know this male at all, know if he’d done anything to deserve a more painful death. But truthfully, you didn’t care.

You leaned down over him, pressing your body into his. It made you want to vomit, but you needed as much of his scent on you as possible. “I want you to thank me.” You said sternly. “Thank me for being merciful. Without me, your death would be stretched over the span of months, if not years. So thank me.”

“Thank you!” The male shouted. “Please, let me go!” It seemed he would do anything you asked if he thought there was a chance at sparing his life. But there wasn’t.

You slashed the dagger across his throat, and hot blood spurted all over you, coating your dress. The male choked on his own blood, sick gurgling sounds echoing throughout the eerie quietness of the clearing. It didn’t take long for the light to fade from his eyes, and death finally claimed him.

Satisfied, you stood up and headed over to the creek to wash the blood off your skin and wipe down the dagger. The water was refreshing, soothing your warm cheeks. You grabbed the male’s discarded shirt and pulled your ruined dress off, rolling the fabric into a ball and stuffing it into your purse. Pulling the shirt over your head, you strode back in the direction of the motel, knowing the wolves will have gotten rid of the body for you by sunhigh.

**********************

You smirked as Azriel stared you down after you told him the story, dumbfounded. His lack of ability to comprehend that you killed the male was almost insulting, but you mostly found it funny. He looked adorable with his eyes wide and his jaw slack, shock written all over his pretty face. It made your blood sing.

“You killed him.” It was more of a statement than a question. No judgement laced Azriel’s deep voice, just awe. Almost as if he was impressed.

“I did.” You said proudly, crossing your arms over your chest. “You would have been proud of me, Az, if you were there. If you had actually paid attention to me instead of trying to fuck Beatrice.”

Azriel’s eyes narrowed, and you instantly realised your mistake. He took a step towards you, cocking his head. “I never told you her name.”

You cursed inwardly at your slip up. You had gotten so caught up in sticking it to Azriel that you mentioned Beatrice by name, something you weren’t supposed to do. Oh well, you’d just have to improvise. “No, you didn’t.” You purred, pointedly bringing your hand up to toy with the emerald necklace.

Azriel’s hazel eyes zoned in on the necklace, and his face went slack once again. “Did you kill her too?”

You giggled, the ice cold necklace a contrast against your warm fingers. “That doesn’t matter to you. Because you won’t get to fuck her, so it shouldn’t matter if she’s dead or alive.”

“She was innocent in this.” Azriel growled. “She didn’t know you were with me.”

“Innocent is hardly the word I’d use.” You snorted. “Besides, you don’t get to be a fucking hypocrite. So you can kill males who put their hands on me but I can’t do the same?”

“You shouldn’t have to!” Azriel hissed, towering over you with his wings flaring. “You are mine. It is my job to protect you, to keep your hands clean. You should not be involved in this shit”

You glared up at him. “I guess I’m just as twisted as you now.”

Something inside the spymaster shifted at your words, and his shoulders slumped. He reached his arms out and wrapped them around you, pulling you into his strong chest. You felt his chin rest against the top of your head, and he inhaled your scent. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” He murmured. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have ignored you, this is all my fault. Please forgive me, I cannot lose you. You are all I think about every breathing moment of my existence. There’s not a line in the world I wouldn’t cross for you. Please tell me how I can make it up to you.”

Part of you wanted to melt into Azriel’s arms, to let him shield you from the rest of the world. To lay you down and worship your body like a priest at the altar, making you feel good and see stars. He was so good at taking care of you, even when he was an ass about it he always knew exactly what you needed at that moment.

But for the first time, you didn’t give in, wanting to show that side of you that you had kept hidden from him. Until now. “You want to make it up to me, Az?” You cooed.

He nodded against your hair, squeezing tighter.

“Kneel.” You said firmly. 

Azriel paused, pulling away but keeping his hands on your waist as he stared down at you in confusion. “I beg your pardon?”

“I said, kneel.” Your voice was edged like steel, a husky but harsh tone to it, one you hadn’t used in a while. At first, you weren’t sure if it would work. Azriel was a dominant male and loved control, seeing if he would be willing to give it up for you was a huge gamble.

But while Azriel had never uttered the words ‘I love you’, he had always promised you that you were his world, that he would do anything for you. And this was his chance to prove it.

“You think you’re in charge?” Azriel’s tone was light, testing the waters to see if you were serious or not. “Come on, sweetheart. You know how good I can make you feel. Let me take over, so you don’t have to worry your pretty little head about a thing.”

You stood with your chin high, unflinching as you repeated yourself. “Kneel.”

Azriel swallowed, and for a moment you thought he was going to laugh and walk out. But the male simply bowed his head, dropping to his knees and placing his scarred hands in his lap. You stepped back, satisfied as you admired the view. The silver moonlight through the windows cast beautiful highlights across the Illyrian. His glorious wings were flared out slightly, the bottom part lightly trailing on the ground. Azriel’s dark hair cast shadows across his face, the only light coming from it being his curious hazel eyes looking up at you. He looked like a fallen angel, a once mighty god begging at your feet. 

Satisfaction flooded through your body. The roles would be reversed tonight, you decided. Azriel would be the one begging you this time. You began unbuttoning your shirt, and the male’s hands instinctively reached up to help, so you slapped them away. “Did I say you could move?” You demanded.

“No.” Azriel said sullenly, moving his hands back into his lap obediently. His eyes were dark, a turmoil of emotions behind them. You could tell he was fighting his instincts to assume his usual role, grabbing you and pinning you to the bed to do with as he pleased. But he was fighting to obey you, to give you satisfaction in a different form.

“Then stay there,” You commanded sternly. “And watch.”

Azriel’s throat bobbed, seemingly swallowing his protests as he nodded. You shed your shirt and pants, striding confidently over to your bedside drawer, letting your hips sway as you went. You could feel Azriel’s intense gaze burning into you with curiosity, making you chuckle inwardly. He was about to get a taste of his own medicine.

For months, Azriel had controlled your pleasure. He decided when you could touch yourself, when you were allowed to cum, how many times you could be pushed over the edge. And you gladly gave yourself to him, willingly subjecting yourself to his torturous teasing whenever he was mad at you. Once, the spymaster had edged you for an entire night until you passed out. Tears had streamed down your face for hours, body aching the next day from being so tense. Azriel was a generous lover, but a cruel one as well. And now it was your time to turn the tables on him.

You opened the drawer, grabbing the blue vibrator he had gifted you all those months ago. It hadn’t been used much since – there were only a few times when Azriel’s shadows would hold the vibrator to your clit as he pounded into you, as he preferred to use his own hands. As good as the vibrator was, it couldn’t compare to the spymaster’s touch. Which is why you knew he was about to be driven to madness.

Sexual weapon in hand, you walked back over to the kneeling Illyrian. You stopped centimetres from his face, which was level with your thigh. He was breathing heavy, eyes dark as he inhaled your scent. But he had learned from his previous mistake it seemed, as he kept his hands to his sides.

“Take off my panties.” You said coldly. “And do not use your hands.”

Azriel stared up at you, the hazel in his eyes barely visible. He leaned forward, his teeth finding the edge of your blue lace panties. They grasped it, his lips brushing your skin as sharp canines tugged at the fabric. He visibly shuddered, his lips so close to where he wanted them to be, yet not allowed to touch. The scent of your arousal was thick in the air, forcing Azriel to ignore it. You sucked in a breath as his eyes met yours as he managed to slowly pull them down your thighs, not breaking eye contact as they fell to your feet.

You stepped out of the fabric, kicking them to the side and turning around to settle yourself on the bed. You sat on the end, facing Azriel and slowly spreading open your legs. The male’s eyes zeroed in on your glistening cunt, and you noticed his hands trembling with effort to keep them at his sides. You turned on the vibrator, placing the suctioning tip against your clit. The sensation made your legs twitch at the sudden contact, and you let out a loud moan, letting your free hand cup your breast.

Admittedly, the moan was a bit of an exaggeration to piss off Azriel. Evidently, it worked. The shadowsinger was glaring at you. “Oh please,” He scoffed. “We both know that won’t be enough to satisfy you.”

You let out another sigh, kicking the vibrator’s intensity up a notch. “It’s more than you gave me last night. I wore one of your favourite dresses, and you didn’t even try to touch me. I’ve had to go and find satisfaction elsewhere, since you wouldn’t give me any.”

The room was stifling, the scent of Azriel’s arousal mixed with your own, and the faintest traces of Beatrice’s honey and lavender perfume clinging to your skin. You rocked your hips against the toy, your cunt weeping mere feet from Azriel’s desperate face.

“Stop.” He growled sternly. “Let me take care of you, sweetheart. Come on, you know I can do better than that toy.”

 You ignored him, your other hand trailing from your breast across your collarbones, caressing all over your skin as you felt that familiar pressure build up in your stomach. It was a slightly foreign sensation, a different feeling than how the buildup to your orgasm when Azriel ate you out felt, or the way your body neared climax with his cock buried inside you. You imagined it was Azriel’s fingers on your clit, expertly working you as you came closer to your orgasm.

“Ok, this little act is over.” Azriel tried to sound firm, but there was a weakness in his voice that dimmed his threat. “Let me touch you. You know the rule – you’re not allowed to cum without my permission. And I don’t give you permission.”

You chuckled at the falter in his tone. “No. You are going to sit there and watch me do what you failed to do the other night. Your rules don’t apply tonight, Az, so suck it up. If you want to touch me, you’ll have to beg.”

Your voice went high pitched as your legs began to shake. Azriel’s protests faded into background noise as you came, your lower body heated and electrified as your orgasm went through you. It wasn’t as intense as some you’d had before, but the unceasing buzzing against your clit as you writhed through your high made you oversensitive. 

Once you had come down from your climax, you set the vibrator aside, staring at Azriel. The veins in his arms were prominent with his effort to keep himself from pouncing on you. Disbelief was written all over his face, as if he couldn’t believe you had actually obeyed him. And that he had let you.

“I told you, your rules don’t apply tonight.” You panted heavily. “Now remove your clothes and lay down on the bed.”

Azriel scrambled to his feet, glaring at you but obliging anyways. He smirked confidently as he peeled his shirt off, revealing those rock hard abs that you loved riding so much. You could never get enough of his body, no matter how many times he stripped in front of you. He was truly a work of art from head to toe.

The spymaster unbuckled his belt, pulling his pants and underwear down to reveal his rock hard erection. Your mouth watered at the sight of his naked form, but you did not budge. You only stared at him coldly, rather than dropping to your knees and giving in like he had clearly expected. Letting out a huff of frustration, Azriel crawled onto his bed, flipping onto his back and settling in.

Shadows curled around his wrists, bringing his arms above his head and holding them prisoner there. Azriel’s eyebrows shot up in disbelief, and you giggled. It seems his shadows were on your side tonight. 

You crawled over top of him, straddling his waist. His hard cock poked into your backside, making your core pulse against his muscled lower abs. You leaned over top of him, placing one hand beside his head and placing your face inches from his own. The spymaster was breathing heavily, staring up at you with awe. 

“You weren’t good to me last night, Azriel.” Your voice dropped, a dangerous tone gleaming on the edge of it. “You flirted with another female when I had gotten all dressed up for you. Instead of even just looking at me, you tried to take her home and fuck her instead of me.”

“I didn’t f–” Azriel’s protest was cut off by a gasp, as you lifted your hips off of him and your free hand reached down and firmly gripped the base of his cock, just how he liked it. He choked on his words, eyes widening as you slowly moved your hand up and down.

“You think she’d be enough to satisfy you?” You teased, mocking his words to you earlier. “She satisfied me well enough. But she wouldn’t be able to give you what I can. She wouldn’t know how you like your cock stroked, but I do.”

To emphasise your point, you squeezed him tighter and twisted your wrist, letting your thumb graze the slit. Azriel let out a breathy moan, shutting his eyes. 

“Look at me.” You snapped, forcing the male to open his eyes. He obliged, letting out little gasps as you continued to stroke him. 

You leaned forward and let your lips graze his neck, your teeth skimming the skin ever so slightly as you picked up the pace of your strokes. Azriel whimpered underneath you – whimpered. The sound was pathetic and needy, and filled you with so much joy. His pretty face was scrunched up with effort, his hands writhing in his unrelenting shadows. You lightly sucked and bit all across his neck and collarbones, knowing that the feather light touches would drive him wild and send him towards his orgasm faster. You knew Azriel always lasted a long time, his god-like stamina making your body tremble as he relentlessly pounded you through orgasm after orgasm.

But you knew by the way his cock twitched in your hand that he wouldn’t last long like this. You let the tip of his cock graze your slit as you pumped, and the shadowsinger moaned loudly, his muscles flexing.

“You like that, pretty boy?” You cooed against his neck.

Azriel whimpered, bucking his hips into your hand.

“None of that now,” You chastised. “I asked you a question.”

He exhaled. “Yes.” Was all he could manage through his moans. 

“I can feel how close you are, it’s pathetic. Normally you last longer. Is this something you’ve dreamed of, baby? Hm? Tell me, do you want to cum?”

Azriel’s eyelids fluttered as he fought to keep still underneath you, a thin sheen of sweat coating his tanned body. “Yes! Gods, yes. Please.”

You sank your teeth into his neck, biting down harshly and making him cry out. Your hand next to his arm shifted, letting your fingertips graze the edge of his wing. “Beg for it then.”

“Please,” The spymaster whimpered. “I’ll do anything you want. Please, just let me cum. Please.”

You hummed, pretending to consider it. Just as his abs tensed signifying his nearing release, you sat up and released his cock. Azriel let out a frustrated yet pathetic groan. “What the fuck?” He protested.

“Not so fun being on the receiving end of that one, is it?” You asked, sitting down on his abs and lazily grinding yourself into them. “I know you’d rather die than admit that you secretly fucking loved it. How pathetic is that? The mighty spymaster of the Night Court, crying underneath me because I wouldn’t let him finish.”

Azriel’s face was deep red, his jaw clenched. A few strands of black hair clung to his forehead. “Please,” He begged with droopy eyes. “I fucked up. Let me make it up to you. Please, let me touch you. Let me make you feel good. Please, I need to touch you. I need you. All I want is to make you feel good.”

You scraped your nail down his chest, eliciting a shiver from the body beneath you. “Is that so?”

“Yes ma’am.”

A wave of arousal had rushed through your veins at not just the title, but the ease at which he said it. It rolled off his tongue so naturally. Sure, you had been called many names in the bedroom before in both submissive and dominant roles, but this was new. And you fucking loved it.

You gripped his chin firmly, letting your nails dig into the skin as you brought your face closer to his. “Say that again.”

He gulped. “Yes ma’am. Please, let me make you feel good.”

You chuckled darkly, sitting up. The shadows repositioned his arms slightly, giving more room on either side of Azriel’s head for what you were about to do, as if they knew already. “I’m going to sit on your face and use you like my own personal toy. You are going to choke on my cunt just as I have choked on your cock, and you are going to be grateful for it and thank me after. You do not get to touch me with your hands, and you will take what I give you. Am I clear?”

Azriel nodded vigorously, eyes gleaming. Truthfully, you knew this was a reward for him. There was nothing in this world he loved more than eating you out. He had often even encouraged you to ride his face. But never before had he not been able to grab your hips and touch you.

You climbed up his body, seating one knee on either side of his head where the shadows had now cleared space for you. As you slowly lowered your cunt towards his face, the Illyrian strained his neck to lift his head as high as he could in a pathetic attempt to get closer to your core.

Briefly, you recalled all the times Azriel had lectured you about how you refused to fully sit on his face, afraid you’d suffocate him. He’d always end up growling in frustration and grabbing your hips, firmly pulling you down so you were seated on his face. 

It was time you showed him you learned your lesson.

With no warning, you lowered your cunt onto his face, fully seating yourself on it and grabbing onto his hair with both hands. Azriel groaned in delight underneath you, the sound sending vibrations right into your core. You moaned in relief, rocking your hips against his face. Lewd noises filled the room as Azriel ate you out like a man who hadn’t had a meal in days, eagerly slurping up all your juices. You shamelessly ground into his face, wanting more.

You cried out as his tongue shoved its way inside you, your clit scraping his nose in a way that made your legs twitch. For a second you wondered how Azriel was managing to breathe, but his relentlessness reassured you that he was perfectly fine somehow.

“You’re so fucking good at this,” You moaned. “It’s all you’re good for, isn’t it? Eating my pussy? Pretty boy is just a desperate little whore, isn’t that right?”

The noise Azriel made was muffled, but akin to a pathetic whimper. Something you knew would ring in your ears like a new favourite song.

It only took a few more minutes before your orgasm built up, barrelling towards you at rapid speed. Your thighs tensed up, clenching around his face as you came, yanking harshly on his silky hair. Azriel groaned as you did so, your juices coating his face. Part of you had been tempted to not let him make you finish, but you couldn’t help it. His mouth felt too good on you, something you had missed over the last few days.

Finally, you lifted yourself off Azriel’s face, hearing him take in a gasping breath as you did so. His hazel eyes were closed in bliss, face shiny from your juices as he panted for air. “Thank you, ma’am.” He murmured. You crawled down his body, seating yourself back on his abs while you collected your composure.

“You did so good, Az.” You purred, reaching behind you and gently brushing your fingers against his hard cock. “You’re so good to me. Now, have you learned your lesson?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Azriel said breathlessly. 

“What lesson would that be?”

“Don’t flirt with other females.”

“Exactly.” You pulled out Truth-Teller from its sheath and pressed the sharp blade against his throat, the shadows having discreetly brought it to you from the spymaster’s discarded belt. “You are mine, and mine only. Nobody else gets to have you but me. Nobody gets to touch you but me. If they do, I will remove their hands and feed their body to the beasts in the woods. And if you try to touch another female in a manner I would not deem fit, it will be your body that gets fed to the creatures. Understood?”

Azriel’s hazel eyes were wide, filled with a mixture of awe, horror, and lust. It made you chuckle inwardly, how he seemed surprised that this is who you had become. You weren’t sure why he would be – he had become your new life, every fibre of your being tied to his and his alone. Azriel was unhinged and possessive to begin with, even more so now that he had you.

He was bad, but you were worse.

“Yes ma’am.” Azriel croaked out, swallowing against the cold metal of the blade.

“Good. Now you’ve made me cum, I think it’s only fair if I let you do the same, right?”

“You may do as you see fit, ma’am.”

A smile bloomed across your face. You could tell it was hard for him to say – his cock was hard as a diamond, his body begging for a release. But he chose the right answer. “Correct. You may fuck me now, any position you see fit. But you are not to cum without my permission.”

The second the shadows binding Azriel’s wrists together slipped away, his scarred hands grabbed your waist and flipped you over, pinning you underneath him. His eyes were frantic as if he worried you’d change your mind. He roughly spread your legs and you let him, relishing in the feeling of him over top of you. He lined up his cock with your entrance and slammed in.

You gasped, the air leaving your body. Azriel’s size was something you would never quite get used to. It had taken you a long time to be able to take him with no preparation, and even then it still hurt like hell for the first bit. But you learned to relish in the pain, especially when he praised you for taking him so well.

But there was no praise coming from his lips this time. Azriel fucked you relentlessly, chasing the pleasure that you had denied him earlier. His movements were frantic, a change from his usual deliberate pace. The room was filled with slapping sounds and moans. Azriel was hitting so deep inside of you that you began to feel dizzy, your eyes rolling back in your head.

Azriel had fucked you harder than anyone ever had before, but this was completely different. It took less than five minutes for Azriel to tense up, signifying he was approaching his orgasm quickly.

“You’re going to cum, aren’t you?” You teased, voice shaky with the force of his thrusts.

Azriel leaned over you, his head next to yours with one arm cradled around your head. “Yes! Please, I need it! Please let me cum.” His voice was utterly broken and fragmented.

You were silent for ten seconds, just long enough to feel the panic coming from him, making him think you were going to say no. But you brought a hand up and stroked his wing in that one spot you knew drove him crazy. “Yes. Good boy. Cum for me, Azriel.”

The spymaster erupted into a powerful orgasm the second his name finished leaving your lips. Hot seed filled your insides, making you cry out. His hips jutted against you as he came, his head tilted back exposing his throat as he moaned loudly, a single tear running down his cheek.

Azriel’s thrusts slowed as he rode out his orgasm, pumping his cum back into you as it spilled out of your hole. He panted, wings twitching as he pulled out and slumped down into the spot beside you on the bed. “Thank you, ma’am.” 

You hummed, satisfied with your work. If you had told yourself months ago that you would be the one to break Azriel one night, you’d have laughed at yourself. It filled you with pride, seeing the stone cold, dominating shadowsinger become a whimpering mess all because of you. 

It made everything you had done worth it.

You reached for Truth-Teller, propping yourself up beside him and putting the cold blade onto his skin, causing him to flinch and look at you in surprise. You trailed the knife down his body, circling it around where his heart was. You angled the blade, pressing the tip of it into his skin, right above the beating muscle. A thin trail of blood ran down from the cut. “This heart is mine. And if you try to give it to anyone else, I will carve it out of you myself.”

The shadowsinger was holding his breath, unmoving against your touch. You knew that he would easily be able to disarm you if he needed to, but there was still a hint of fear in his eyes.

No, he was not scared of you cutting his heart from his chest. He was scared of you running away from him.

You smirked, satisfied at his reaction. You weren’t going anywhere. You were right here with Azriel, where you belonged. 

[shadowdaddyazriel]

What’s one ACOTAR fanfic you’ve been dying for someone to write?? I’m always looking for new ideas!

Be sure to check out my longer fics on Wattpad and ao3 under @shadowdaddyazriel for more!!

[shadowsxgwynriel]

Let’s be crazy together 🔪🩸💀

Summary: Gwyn has a need for blood, so she decides to rid the world of monsters.

Content Warning: Be warned that this is a dark romance. Gwyn is an unhinged psycho who kills people and Azriel is a literal vampire.

There is violence along with rough sex, blood play, and brief knife play. Basically this is pure filth. Gwyn also gets off on pain so please keep that in mind.

I had to tune into my former teenage emo angst for this one.

Read on AO3

Snippet:

There were always stories being told about monsters that lurked in the darkness. Monsters that were waiting to snatch any poor unsuspecting woman.

Unfortunately for them, Gwyn Berdara was an even bigger threat.

She wasn’t a helpless victim. She didn’t fear any monsters.

She was the one that the monsters feared.

[assriels]

lessons in touch

pairing: azriel x f!reader

summary: azriel’s curiosity and penchant for spying reveals exactly why you’ve been more…enthusiastic in bed lately

word count: 5.8k :0

warnings: smut (not super detailed)!! 18+ mdni pls, az being nosy

a/n: this is one of my faves so far :’) i have this persistent silly headcanon that az is the biggest busybody of them all and that’s why he’s so good at his job

masterlist

banners by @/cafekitsune <3

Sex between you and Azriel was far from boring. It was a well known secret that Azriel had a predilection towards kink and experimentation, so your adventures with him between the sheets never left either of you dissatisfied. Far from it, actually.

Being with him was always pleasurable, wonderful, and unrivaled by any you’d had before him. During girls night, you had always attested to his prowess, said that his skills of observation extended past the battlefield and very much into the bedroom. And his wingspan…you would neither confirm nor deny whether the theory around Illyrian males and their wingspan was true, much to their chagrin, but the mischievous smirk that curled your lips was all they needed to confirm their suspicions.

Azriel was a skilled lover; he knew your ins and outs, understood almost innately how to coax pleasure from you with a simple, well placed brush of his fingers. More often than not, Azriel had you in a puddle on the floor before he could even take his pants off. Which, ordinarily, was a more than welcome skill — you loved how well he knew you, adored how he loved you so much that his brain was like a file cabinet of information about things you liked.

But you’d grown frustrated lately, more and more desiring to reduce Azriel to the same pleasure filled putty that he so often did with you. His composure was infuriatingly ironclad; you knew he felt the same primal, overwhelming desire that you did — such was the nature of the mating bond — but he was much better at masking it.

In short, you wanted to know what made him tick, what made him beg and whimper and plead with you to touch him. You’d been mated for a year now, and while his desire for you never waned, you had yet to find the one thing that made him sink to his knees and beg the way he so easily coaxed you to do for him.

It was no secret that your mate had a bold competitive streak. But your own stubbornness rivaled his own, leading to long, long card game nights and sparring matches — much to everyone else’s entertainment.

Though you knew you had no reason to feel such competitiveness when matters of the bedroom were concerned, you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of annoyance that Azriel had so easily figured out how to make you squirm in a multitude of ways — with all your cards on the table — while you were still somewhat in the dark about his most favored bedroom inclinations. Azriel kept the secrets of his hand close to his chest.

So you vowed to yourself that you’d figure it out, test his composure to see how exactly to make that beautiful, calm countenance crack. It was like a game, but one you were more than willing to play and even more determined to win.

Ever the observer however, Azriel caught on to the changes in your excitement beneath the sheets, amusement and adoration coursing through his veins as he reveled in your sudden vigor, never shying away from a challenge.

You had been more experimental in your bedroom endeavors as of late, asking him to bend you this way and that, introducing things that he never thought you’d be interested in — not that he was complaining in the slightest. Though your differences were strikingly obvious, Azriel would be lying if he said he wasn’t curious about where your sudden interest in various sexual niches had sprung from.

Initially, it was all fun and games; if you wanted to explore then so be it — he’d match you stroke for stroke every time. But eventually, his nosiness had wedged its way deep into each crevice of his mind until he was all-consumed, curiosity devolving into a burgeoning anxiety.

Was something wrong?

Azriel was positive that if you were bored you would tell him. Had you heard something from one of the others that spurred you to want to explore more? Had you felt as though you had to introduce novelty every time to please him?

You had to have known that was far from the truth; no matter your state, Azriel had always made it clear to you that you were the most exquisite creature he’d ever had the privilege of knowing, let alone laying with. He didn’t think there was anything wrong…at least not for him. Maybe you felt like something was missing.

“Penny for your thoughts, brother?”

Rhys’s voice snapped him out of his anxious musings. Azriel hadn’t realized that he was pacing so furiously he could have worn a hole through the floor. Both Rhysand and Cassian had been watching with amusement glinting in their eyes. After all, it was a rare sight to see their ordinarily calm and stoic shadowsinger so worked up.

The same poker face Azriel had worn to win countless games of cards against his brothers masked his features now, but the twitch in his brow and the near missable ruffling of his wings were tells that Cassian and Rhysand were well acquainted with.

The shadowsinger had never perfected his stone faced indifference when he was thinking of you.

Cassian ventured a guess, “Have you upset Y/N?”

Cassian had meant to tease, but the way Azriel stayed silent had his eyebrow arching in question. Azriel ignored the curious glance from his brother as his mind ran in circles once more.

Had he upset you? Was your sudden experimentation in bed some roundabout way of telling him that he had done something to hurt you? No, no…that didn’t make sense, he was being illogical.

Or…Had he somehow missed picking up on something that you liked?

Your sudden interest in sexual exploration was far from a problem, but he got the niggling sense that you were up to something, playing a game that he wasn’t privy to. And he wanted in.

Azriel was private by nature, never revealing more of his relationship with you than absolutely necessary to his brothers, not wanting to overshare in fear that he’d fall victim to their incessant teasing. But this…maybe it would be useful to get their opinions about your sudden change in interests? Cassian and Rhys were both mated males afterall, and maybe there was something Azriel was missing. He would never admit it to anyone but himself, but he fell victim to his crippling neuroticism more times than he’d like to. Curiosity and anxiety were two sides of the same coin.

So he indulged and told his brothers of your sudden vigor in bed, enthusiasm to try something new every single time. You’d been insatiable as of late and he didn’t know why; nothing had changed that he knew of and it was concerning him, he couldn’t stand not knowing.

“So,” Rhys started tentatively, narrowing his eyes in confusion, not quite grasping the issue that Azriel was so hesitant to endorse. “Y/N is trying new things in bed.”

And elsewhere, Azriel thought with a ghost of a smile on his lips. He’d leave that part out, though; Rhys probably wouldn’t appreciate knowing the details about the going-ons in the dining room of the townhouse. And the gardens. And the hallways.

“And you’re complaining?” Cassian asked, incredulous, similarly at a loss for his brother’s concern.

“I’m not complaining, Cass,” Azriel groaned and slumped unceremoniously into a chair (much like an irritated school child who’d been caught doing something they weren’t supposed to), immediately regretting his poorly thought out decision to confide in his brothers. “I’m just confused. I don’t know what she wants.”

“Have you considered asking her?” Rhys inquired, infuriatingly teasing smile curving his lips.

Azriel deadpanned and clicked his tongue, not believing that Rhys would assume he was so inept at communicating with his lover, “Of course I’ve asked. She just says nothing’s changed. I believe her, but it’s still bothering me and I don’t know why.”

Both Cassian and Rhys resisted the urge to laugh, mentally conversing about how Azriel’s affections for you often reduced him to an adolescent-like lovesickness, begging and willing to please. Az had been this way since they were children; fiercely competitive and subsequently pouty if he didn’t have the upper hand, always wanting to know and learn everything he could.

This side of the shadowsinger was one that did not make an appearance often, reserving itself until he was around the few he trusted wholeheartedly.

The past couple of centuries saw even less of this endearingly childish and competitive Azriel – even around his closest friends – as Night Court duties and his identity as Spymaster overshadowed most opportunities to be vulnerable in his relationships.

But when you came around, light began to spark beneath the shadowy depths of Azriel’s countenance as you slowly coaxed him to trust and love as fiercely as everyone knew he was capable of, with the reckless abandon that his childhood self so easily embodied.

“Maybe check her nightstand,” Cassian teased with a wink, only half joking, as a quiet happiness bubbled within him at the small glimpses of Azriel’s vulnerability. “Some of Nesta’s best kept secrets are hidden there.”

Before Azriel could furrow his brow and chastise his brother for snooping through his mate’s belongings, a realization hit him.

Nesta.

You had been spending an awfully large amount of time with the eldest Archeron sister in the library lately, choosing to hole up there in lieu of your other hobbies when you weren’t training or engaging in your various other Night Court duties.

But Nesta would be a dead end. There was no way he could approach her without tipping you off to his secret sleuthing. Though he and Nesta were friends, her loyalties laid with you; there was an unexplainable female camaraderie between you – a chosen sisterhood, if you will – and if he asked if she knew anything about what was going on, she’d go running to you, mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

The conversation with his brothers was about as helpful as he initially thought it would be, and he let himself succumb to their jokes about how wrapped around your finger he was. Azriel had endured it graciously, knowing better than anyone that they were right, that he was indeed wrapped so tightly around your little finger that he was unsure of where he ended and you began. That he would gratefully stay in the palm of your hand for as long as you would allow.

But that night, after you had told him not to wait up for you because you’d be having drinks with Feyre and Mor, Cassian’s voice reverberated insistently in his mind.

Check her nightstand…best kept secrets…

Azriel resisted the urge to snoop for all of ten minutes before his inherent nosiness clouded his judgment and got the better of him; afterall, his love for secrets is what made him such an effective spymaster. Before he knew it, he was rolling onto your side of the bed, inquisitive hands pulling open your bedside drawer.

Hidden among the small stack of books he had given you was a thick novel with a cover he recognized, but gave no second thought.

It was a book you said Nesta had lent you. When he asked if you liked it you said it was “only okay” and that you’d let him know if he should read it when you were finished. Despite your lukewarm review, however, it had never left your side, and he had found you on more than one occasion cozied up with it in your hands, cheeks dusted with a heat he knew all too well.

Azriel was well aware of the content of the books Nesta favored, often lending a reluctant ear to a whiny Cassian whenever she paid more attention to her books than him.

But there was no way your sudden excitement for novelty in the bedroom could be inspired by Nesta’s smutty recommendations…right? He leafed through, assessing hazel eyes quickly skimming the paragraphs, catching glimpses of the prose that had you so enraptured.

Azriel felt the back of his neck heat.

It was smut, as he assumed. But this was truly…filth. Pure, unadulterated, filthy smut.

Azriel was a lover of all books, never having been one to categorize or judge them by popular opinion. And, to be completely fair, he had read a decent amount of books filled with sex and romance.

But…he was sure that the acts detailed in this one would make even the Court of Nightmares’s debauchery look saintly. Even Azriel, who had been correctly assumed to be the kinkiest of the Inner Circle, felt tame in comparison to the words flickering across the pages of your book. How did you read this with such impassivity on your face?

Azriel snapped the book shut with such force the pages blew a cool, gentle breeze onto his heating face. He tried – and failed – to not picture you in the position the main character in your book was described in, unintentionally sending a soft hum of his burgeoning arousal down your bond. He was beginning to understand your desire to replicate the more salacious scenes detailed in your novels.

Having fun without me, Az? Came your teasing inquiry in his mind, as he meticulously replaced all of your belongings into your nightstand.

Don’t be nosy, he quipped back, extremely aware of the irony of his statement. And then after a beat he added, answering your question with a sincerity that never failed to grip your heart, Never without you, love.

You left him waiting for a response a little bit longer than you normally would as you attempted to control the thundering beat of your heart in your chest. You were convinced that no amount of time could ever diminish the effects that Azriel’s blatant display of love had on your composure. As much as he was wrapped around your little finger, you were just as tightly wrapped around his.

I take back what I said earlier, wait up for me.

Azriel smirked to himself, feeling a flare of triumph, It’s a date, then. Maybe I’ll find something interesting to read in the meantime.

If you caught on to his sly insinuation, you did not let on, just continued bantering with him for a few moments before returning your full attention to your friends, who were no doubt attempting to extract morsels of information from your obviously lascivious exchange with your lover.

But that night – even after Azriel had promptly fucked you into a blissful oblivion – had yielded no more information about your recent proclivity for finding a new kink, so Azriel did what he did best and spied.

He kept a watchful eye on the books you read, and tracked the times you asked him to try something new. He spent more time in the library than necessary under the guise that Rhys had put him up to some research.

Which was only half of a lie. He was in there to do reconnaissance, yes, just not for Rhys.

Azriel scanned the bookshelves for anything that seemed like it had been recently replaced, pages still clinging to the sweet scent of your skin. A title he recognized caught his eye and he slotted it out of place, flipping through the pages to confirm his suspicions.

This book was shorter than the others he’d seen you carry around, but certainly no less obscene. A smirk pulled at Azriel’s lips as he read a dog eared chapter that you had clearly marked for inspiration, recollections of your most recent tryst in his office flooding his awareness.

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You had sauntered into his small, private study at the House of Wind, short dress skimming the curves of your thighs as you bent to greet him with a kiss to his cheek. He’d been distracted at the time — surveying maps and cross referencing with ancient textbooks — and barely tore his attention away from his work long enough to squeeze your hand in greeting.

But you didn’t seem to mind, opting to make yourself comfortable and purveying the books neatly organized on his shelves. When you’d found a book you thought would be interesting enough — though probably not quite as interesting as the one you’d just finished, per Nesta’s recommendation — you settled into the armchair across Azriel’s desk, shoulders against one armrest as your legs draped over the other.

Azriel looked up at you then, soft smile curving his lips. He loved when you kept him company while he worked; somehow, whenever you were around, work never seemed nearly as daunting or overwhelming.

You met his gaze with your own grin, silently communicating your support of him in the way that only mates could, tugging gently on the bond before winking at him and resettling your attention back to the book in your lap.

The both of you worked in that wonderfully comfortable silence for a while before Azriel caught you fidgeting out of the corner of his eye. The sun had begun its routine descent below the horizon, cool breeze stirring the sheer curtains framing his windows. Though summer had plagued the days with heat and humidity, the nights were still cool as the last dregs of spring eked away.

He looked up, intending on asking if you needed anything — a blanket, maybe — but the words died swiftly in his throat when he eyed a flash of bare skin as you swung your legs to stand, showcasing just enough for him to clue in to the fact that you were indeed not wearing underwear. Or anything else under your dress, if the peak of your nipples beneath the silk was anything to go by.

Selfishly, for a brief moment, Azriel decided that maybe keeping the windows open wouldn’t be so bad.

He pried his eyes away from your form making its way back to his bookcase, and instead attempted to tamp down the raging lust stirring in his belly so he could focus. But the mental picture of what he knew lay beneath the barely there fabric of your dress coupled with your scent made the lines on the map he was studying blur into nonsense.

Though intelligent and compassionate at heart, Azriel often found himself a slave to his baser male instincts when it came to you. There was little – if anything – you could do to quell the raging need to touch you, kiss you, be near you at all hours of the day; his desire for you was a constant hum belying his daily routine. He had not one iota of self control when you were involved, much to his simultaneous thrill and chagrin.

Inwardly, he cursed himself as he stole another glance at you as you stretched onto your toes to reach a book on the top shelf.

Beauty incarnate, truly, he thought. Azriel’s eyes tracked each slope and valley of the lines of your body, taking his time to commit each curve to memory, the way he should have been doing with the maps sitting now uselessly on his desk.

You looked at him over your shoulder, small pout on your lips, “Az, can you help me? I can’t reach.”

Azriel’s heart leapt. It’s like you were doing it on purpose, and in hindsight you definitely were. But despite the gnawing adoration encouraging him to fall to his knees and worship at your feet, he stood with the cool grace of someone unperturbed by their mate’s subtle seduction.

Azriel obliged you, coming up behind you, one hand curling around your hip to steady himself as the other reached easily to the top shelf to grab the book your fingertips skimmed. As he leaned forward, you could feel the hard planes of his chest against your back and you wanted to abandon all your plans to slowly seduce Azriel into a puddle on the floor, but you remained steadfast in your decision. Nesta had pushed a book into your hands and said she tried this once with Cassian and that the resulting hours were pure heaven, and you wanted to test the theory, curiosity rivaling that of your mate’s.

You barely registered Azriel putting the book in your hands, too lost in the warmth of his familiar touch. But you composed yourself quickly, leaning back into him to kiss him in thanks, not so subtly pushing your ass back into his hips. A feeling of revelry settled in your chest when you felt him already half hard beneath his pants, his fingers curling tighter around your hip.

Oh so reluctantly, you pulled away, perfect picture of obliviousness as you plopped back down on the armchair you were occupying previously.

Azriel thought he would collapse in on himself when you went to sit back down. You had him so tightly ensnared it was like he was still in the midst of the initial mating frenzy. He briefly wondered if the mind-boggling need for you would ever go away, though part of him knew hoped it never would.

He took a moment to compose himself — if that was even possible when one’s mate was clearly playing a dangerous game of seduction — bracing himself with one arm steady against the bookshelf.

Despite how much Azriel so greatly wanted to shirk his responsibilities to bend you over his desk, he wouldn’t. Not yet anyway. The work day wasn’t quite over, and the plans he was making for you would surely last too long to finish his research afterwards. So he steeled himself and took a deep, steadying breath, willing his blood to fill his head again so he could think with some semblance of clarity.

Though at baseline, he always found it difficult to think rationally when you were around.

While Azriel was trying — and failing — to regain his composure, you were feigning extreme interest in the book you had selected at random: The History and Systems of Fae War Treaties.

If Azriel had been paying any attention to what you were reaching for, he’d have caught on to your ploy, but luckily for you the mere sight of you was enough to render him at least somewhat incapacitated.

You took a peek at him over the back of the chair, triumphant satisfaction crooking your lips into a mischievous smile. Maybe this would be the day he finally cracks, you think to yourself.

But as the sun dipped lower beneath the skyline of Velaris below, and as Azriel stubbornly worked away at his desk, you felt the tiredness of the day settle into your bones, pull you deeper into the plush leather of Azriel’s loveseat. Cassian had run you ragged with training this morning, and Rhys and Amren had your mind working tirelessly as the three of you attempted to draft a peace treaty in a meager four hours.

But you wouldn’t sleep, not yet, not until you had reduced Azriel to a beautiful, orgasmic mess in his chair. Not until the hazel of his eyes were blown dark with desire and pleading as you straddled his hips.

The next hour was a fight to stay awake as the words on the pages in your lap began to blur into obscurity, mind muddling with theories and questions — though the book was an off handed choice, you couldn’t deny that the information was coincidentally incredibly pertinent to the discussion you were having with Rhys and Amren earlier in the day.

The telltale sigh of a day’s work completed pulled your attention away from your book, gaze settling on your mate. His hair was mused in a way that told you he had spent the last however long skating his fingers through it, but as always it fell perfectly across his forehead in defiance of the tiredness creeping up his neck.

Azriel’s eyes met yours and apparently your coy seduction earlier still held his body in a vice, evident in the way he stood and stalked to you. There was a cool, domineering edge to his movements and you knew your plan had worked to a degree, but the determination you had to break him down had leeched out of you the same way the night had stolen the day’s heat.

You hummed in satisfaction as he leaned down to kiss you, the pressure gentle and so, so sweet. A stark contrast to the dark and tempting storm of desire Azriel flooded your senses with down the bond.

Never once breaking the contact of your kiss, he’d wedged a knee between your legs as one hand braced against the arm of the loveseat while the other danced at the hem of your dress, endearingly asking for permission.

Your mouth curved against his and you guided his hand up to your hip, gasping delightedly when his hand tracked further up your waist, bringing the hem of your dress up with it as he slotted your hips more comfortably against his leg.

His lips traced a scalding trail of open mouthed kisses against your jaw, your neck, a chuckle rumbling deep in his chest that had your hips rolling against him.

“So bold for me,” he said, his hand skating across your unclothed skin while he urged your hips to grind a little harder against his thigh. You gasped, the pressure so wonderfully perfect against your cunt.

Though your initial intention was to get Azriel all hot and bothered, you couldn’t deny that the game you had set yourself up in had the same effect on you; the lingering, almost lazy path his eyes swept over your body every time you shifted across from him left heat singing between your legs, untamed longing for you dancing down the golden thread between you.

“Az…” you rasped, arching your hips up to meet his still clothed body, the top of your dress pushed languidly down to your waist as Azriel played slow music on the skin of your breasts. The loveseat was a cramped fit at best, but Azriel’s surprising flexibility and dexterity made it work despite the general largeness of his wings and frame. He’d made even the smallest corners of the House work for your sexual escapades.

The memories of all the scandalous little happenings you two have been partaking in the past few months flitted across your mind’s eye like an erotic slideshow, and you groaned. Legs tightening around his in desperate search for more friction, more contact, more of him. His name on your lips again was a wanton plea, a sound so wonderfully obscene Azriel almost came in his pants.

“Hmm?” He hummed, closing his lips around your nipple, teeth gently tugging before his tongue was quick to soothe the ache. The way your hips were grinding so shamelessly against him had his head spinning with a swirling mix of lust and love, and he clung to the last shreds of self discipline he had. It was all he could do to not tear both of your clothes off and sink himself deep into your brilliant warmth.

Azriel had always been patient, mastery over his desire was a skill he’d honed meticulously over the past few centuries — though you had a way of quickly unraveling his self control with one flutter of your eyelashes. But he wanted to make this last for you, wanted to draw out your pleasure for as long as possible. So he pressed his thigh more firmly between your legs, his own hips slotting against the side of your body.

You gasped at the feel of him, of how hard he was against your hip, and you tried to reach him, tried to get him to release some of the tension you knew coiled in his belly. He groaned deep and breathless when you pressed insistently against him, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment before he continued his ministrations on your body.

Azriel’s hands were everywhere, trailing paths around your breasts, up your neck, into your hair, and between your legs the way he no doubt was doing with the maps on his desk earlier.

It was infuriating how close you were already, how swiftly the tables had turned (though you half blamed the sudden onset of your fatigue the day had cursed you with), how with one well placed touch you were on the brink of collapse at Azriel’s mercy yet again.

He was urging your hips faster now, his fingers and lips making quick work of all the places he knew would have you keening. And before you could even register that he was still fully clothed, hard cock still straining against the confines of his pants, you were falling, breathless and dizzy with release.

The night had been far from over. You came twice more in that godsdamned loveseat – once with his fingers buried inside you and another time with his head between your legs – before he whisked you away to your bedroom where you finally, finally felt the delicious stretch of him inside you.

By the time the sun was making its appearance over the horizon once more, you had lost count of how many times Azriel had you begging.

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Though your spicy little rendezvous in his office – and encore in the bedroom – wasn’t quite an exact replica of what played out in the book you had apparently just read, Azriel had thought your coy seduction had its intended effect. He’d been so fucking desperate for you that he couldn’t wait until you were out of his study to have you coming for him.

But, as he skimmed the pages of the chapter you marked, he couldn’t help but think that maybe he wouldn’t mind being fully at the mercy of your whims, wouldn’t mind submitting to the pleasure that you so easily coaxed from him. He was already always so eager to please you, so willing to crawl to the ends of the earth for you if you had so much as suggested you wanted him to.

“Azriel?” Nesta’s voice dripped with wicked amusement, effectively pulling him from his erotic reverie. “I never thought I’d see you in this section of the library.”

Fuck.

He hadn’t anticipated that he’d run into Nesta, a severely idiotic oversight on his part considering the House’s library was something akin to her own personal sanctuary. Azriel turned slowly on his heels to face her, mind working in overdrive to come up with a viable excuse for him being there.

“Nesta,” was all he came up with. Pathetic.

Her smirk turned deadly when she realized he was floundering. Arms crossed over her chest, chin tilted ever so slightly upwards, she looked the very portrait of smug amusement; he would expect nothing less of his friend who moonlighted as Lady Death.

Nesta’s eyes dropped to the book he forgot he was holding, and her eyebrows shot up in understanding, “Ah, I just recommended that one to Y/N. She gave it a hefty five stars. Said it was…intriguing.”

Nesta’s sly comments were enough to confirm Azriel’s suspicions that you were taking bedroom inspiration from the arsenal of smutty books the House stocked. And, with the way Nesta was biting her tongue, he could tell that she knew exactly why he was there.

Cassian, that fucking mouthy bastard.

Before Azriel could open his mouth to tell her that it wasn’t what it looked like – even though they both knew it was exactly what it looked like – Nesta stalked past him, pulling books off the shelf with striking precision. With a stack of five books balanced on one hand, she took the one Azriel was holding and reshelved it.

“These are Y/N’s favorite,” she said, this time with a little bit more softness and understanding as she placed them gingerly in his arms. “I’m sure she’d love if you read them.”

Azriel scanned each cover, a fond smile working to tilt the corners of his lips. You did love these; he had been familiar with these covers long before you were even mated, always keeping a lovingly watchful eye on the things you enjoyed, filing the knowledge away in his mind for later.

“Thanks, Nesta,” he said sincerely, adoration for you filling his chest with warmth as he remembered the excitement lighting your eyes while you read these books, cute flush radiating off your cheeks.

Nesta only nodded, giving his shoulder an encouraging few pats as she stalked off to another aisle, no doubt scouring the shelves for a new read.

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Azriel told himself that he’d only read a few chapters — for research — but he hadn’t realized that he’d spent the better half of his day off lounging on the loveseat in his study.

Despite his previous reservations around the smutty books you’d so lovingly treasured, he found he was enjoying them — and not just for the well written, detailed sex scenes that you were pulling ideas from. He was two-thirds of the way through the second book, in the midst of the big climax, when you snuck up on him.

“It seems you’ve discovered my dirty little secret,” you said coyly, arms coming up behind him to snake around his shoulders.

Azriel jumped at your sudden appearance, inwardly cursing himself for teaching you how to sneak up on someone so effectively. He closed the book swiftly, feeling a flustered blush creep up his neck.

You pouted and rested your chin on his shoulder, “Aw, you were just getting to the best part! Don’t stop reading on my account.”

Azriel groaned but gave in, leaning back into your touch, “Don’t tease me.”

“I would never tease you, my love,” you said mockingly before kissing his cheek. “It is really the best part, though. The paint scene—“

Before you could regale the details of the main characters’ sexual escapades, Azriel took your chin in his fingers and slotted his lips over yours in a silent plea to stop your innocent tormenting. He reveled in the way you kissed him back without pause; he didn’t think he’d ever get used to the way you loved him as eagerly as he did you.

“Dirty little secret, huh?” He quipped, lips brushing yours as a bemused smirk lifted the corners of his mouth. You rolled your eyes as you made your way around the back of the chair, gesturing for him to uncross his legs so you could settle yourself on his lap.

Your weight was a welcome comfort as he continued prodding you, “Is this why you’ve been so…eager lately?”

“I didn’t think you’d notice,” you admitted, winding your arms around his neck as he scoffed in mock disbelief.

“Give me some credit love, I notice everything when it comes to you.” Came his quick response.

You pursed your lips, half in childish dissatisfaction that your little game was over, “I just wanted to know how to get you to beg for me. I needed ideas.”

Your nonchalance belied the wicked sensuality of your words and he chuckled, wrapping his wings around you both before mapping a scathing trail of kisses up your neck. The pillowy feel of his lips brushing your ear made you shudder, his teeth nibbling playfully at your earlobe as he hummed deep in his chest, “We have a lifetime together, there’s no rush. But since you want it so badly, shall I show you how well I can beg for you?”

Azriel’s offer sent an exhilarating shiver down your spine, and you so desperately wanted to give in, wanted to watch him come undone beneath you as he pleaded with you to touch him. But you shook your head despite yourself, competitive stubbornness the only barrier between you and what you wanted.

“I want to earn it, make you want me so bad you can’t help yourself.”

Your words were a breathy murmur that nearly had Azriel flipping you over right there on the too small lounge chair, but he resisted, prioritizing his assurances that you were the only thing he wanted every second of every day.

“That’s the thing, beloved,” he whispered in your ear, deep voice doused in honey reverberating in your bones as your desire flared so wildly it made you lightheaded. His hand, calloused palms rough against your skin, skated beneath the hem of your dress to grab hold of your hip and move you so you were straddling him.

This was the image you played over and over in your mind. The unbridled, unrestrained look of pleading in his eyes that blew his pupils wide, that had his hips shifting against yours in a display of just how much he wanted you.

“I always want you,” he continued. “I’d beg for you like I am dying of dehydration and you are my oasis. Just ask, and I’ll do exactly as you say.”

You were mesmerized, finger tracing the sharp contours of his jawline before ending at his chin, tilting his gaze up with the same practiced dominance you’d seen him slip into countless times before. You savored the way he shuddered at your touch, pretty lips parting as his chest heaved.

The corner of your mouth quirked, your breath a ghost over his lips, “Show me, then.”