#dark!azriel x reader

[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.

[tadpolesonalgae]

Salt On My Tongue[***] 

Dark!Azriel x Vanserra!Reader

warnings: themes of somnophilia, bdsm, dacryphilia; implied use of an aphrodisiac and sleeping medicine; noncon; masturbation; fingering; cum play; (arguably) incorrect use of underwear; spying?

word count: 8,118

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

The sun is still rising from the horizon, casting a deep orange gold across the tiles of the kitchen floor when Azriel enters, shadows gliding in his wake, and you’d guess he likely hasn’t slept.

“Morning,” you greet, a faint smile on your mouth, watching him hopefully as he makes his way to the teapot sat in the middle of the small table, pouring himself a cup. It isn’t often he visits since he’s kept busy with his own work, dealing with who knows what in the dark shadows that cling to  him. That and the whole point of you being here is to keep your existence under wraps. It’s unlikely anyone would get suspicious, particularly since you’re convinced he and his brothers are the only ones who even know the location of this safe house, but he still keeps the visits to a strict minimum.  Not like anyone would come looking for you, after the bargain that was struck between your eldest brother and the High Lord of the Night Court. The only reasons Azriel has to visit at all, are either to get a semblance of peace and quiet—he’s never said so, but you’ve gathered that’s the case over the decades—or… 

Azriel takes a seat at the table, wings shifting at his back as he stretches the tension-tied tendons, powerful muscle flexing as he spreads each wing in turn, already pulling a notebook from a shadowy pocket. His tea steams nearby, pencil already scratching over paper and you glance to the calendar on the wall, hopes steadily becoming more and more substantial, but he’s continuing with his work. 

You try to wait—he’s busy, he has work to do, he doesn’t enjoy your company—but when he’s one of the only people you really ever get to see, restraint is difficult. Most of your discretion and discipline slips the leash when he visits, jumping and bounding with exhilaration at seeing someone again, even if it is someone so cold. 

It’s only when his tea boils over, steam fluttering in simmering ribbons from the teacup that he raises his gaze to yours, expression disagreeable. “You’re a grown woman,” he says, pinning you with a cold look, “behave like one.” 

“Sorry, Azriel,” you reply quickly, getting a hold of your magic, leaving his tea alone. Your lips press together, hands in your lap while your fingers wring impatiently beneath the table, waiting expectantly. But he watches you for a few moments more, dragging out the silence, as if daring you to speak out of turn, before going back to his notebook, pencil once again scratching over the paper, and you could bite your tongue from frustration. 

Instead you swallow thickly—you’re entirely justified in interrupting him, in this case…—sitting straighter in your chair, fingers hooking over the edge of the table where he can see them. “Azriel,” you try, wanting to get his attention. He makes a low noise of acknowledgement, but his pencil continues scrawling neatly across the narrow lines of the paper. “Eris is visiting today isn’t he?” You blurt out, unable to contain it any longer. It’s the only other reason he would be here with you, other than for his own reasons that you’ve long given up on trying to understand, and the timing is aligned, too. Your oldest brother usually visits some time during spring, as preparations are less hectic in the Autumn Court, magic just that little bit more tame while the rest of the world passes through the opposing season.

“He can’t make it this year,” Azriel replies, not looking up, “he’ll visit next year.” 

You blink, the words hitting like stones against your skin, bruises already flourishing in their wake. “…what?” 

Azriel doesn’t reply, knowing you heard him the first time and unwilling to repeat himself, but you push forward regardless. “Azriel, what do you mean he can’t visit this year. He always visits. What’s in his way?” 

“How should I know,” Azriel replies, pencil scratches grating against your ears. 

“What reason did he give?” You push, leaning forward in your seat, forearms crossed beneath your breasts to brace yourself. “He would have said something. What was it?” 

“He didn’t say. Probably busy scheming.” 

“He wouldn’t,” you insist, but he looks like he’s hardly listening to you. “Azriel,” you say, a little louder and a little harsher than you should really be speaking to him. 

He doesn’t take his attention from his notebook, continuing with those frustratingly neat scrawls of writing, not even bothering to recognise the pain that’s undoubtedly written across your features. Your jaw works, throat rolling, before your brow is narrowing, pinning his mug with a look, watching as the steam becomes thicker, fluttering more violently, swiftly bubbling from a gentle simmer to an obvious boil, scalding water splashing in places across the table in less than a fraction of a second. Sharp eyes flick to the cup, then slice up to you, his brows narrowed in mild displeasure, before a cold, silky darkness snatches your sight away. 

You inhale sharply as his shadows coil over your eyes, acting as a blindfold so you have no control over the direction of your magic, powers draining away as the darkness smothers your flame with little effort. 

Azriel watches with a passive look on his face as a tear drips from beneath his shadows, spilling down your cheek but evaporating before it hits the table. Good. He tucks the visual away, carefully prying it from his immediate memory and locking it up somewhere dark and depraved. 

“Has it crossed your mind that maybe he doesn’t want to see you?” Azriel asks from across the table. “If he missed you so much, he would find the time.” 

“You’re lying. Tell me why he couldn’t make it.” You’ve never spoken like that to him before. Always tried to keep a tone of respect when interacting with him, since you’re in his lands, in his house. Your life arguably in his hands, in a way. 

“He’s the one who sent you away in the first place,” Azriel replies coldly. “He’s the one who sent you here, right into his enemies’ hands.”

“He’s the one who made the sacrifice,” you argue back, tears simmering as they burn at your cheeks, “all you’re doing is lending a house to someone. There’s hardly any downside on your end of the deal. He’s the one giving things up.” 

“And he’s the reason why you’re so lonely,” Azriel replies, ice creeping into his voice as you advocate for your brother. “And now you’ll be even more on your own, since he couldn’t even be bothered to find a few hours for you. We’re the ones looking after you. Tell me again how much he loves you?” 

“Like you’re any better?” You manage back, voice wobbling, because you are alone here. So, incredibly isolated. Sure there are the animals, the birds and the insects, the constant chirp and chipper from the outside, but it’s nothing like interaction with other people. And there have been times you’ve resented your brother for that. For keeping you safe only by putting you in a cage. 

“I’m here, aren’t I?” 

Azriel’s icy voice breaks through your thoughts, and if it weren’t for his shadows blindfolding you, you’d be staring at him. 

“You barely visit,” you manage hoarsely. “And even then, you make no secret that you loathe my presence. You hardly tolerate it.”

“I need to concentrate on my work. It’s basic respect I’m asking for,” he replies, yielding not even an inch of ground in this one-sided battle. “I’d be happier if you didn’t visit at all,” you shoot back, heart aching in your chest. 

Silence stretches, and your ears strain, searching for some kind of sound. 

“Those words would hold more weight if you actually meant them,” Azriel replies at last, and your head tilts to the side, turning to the right where his voice came from. “But as it is,” he continues, voice lowered to a near whisper, flinching when his lips brush the shell of your ear, “you’re easier to read than a picture book, and a liar—just like your brother.” 

Then he’s stepping away, shadows pulling with him, and your eyes wince for a second before they adjust, watching through blurry vision as he sits back down, pouring himself a fresh cup of tea. 

You’d boiled the last one down to the pit of the mug.

————

You’re sat on your mattress, back pressing into the full pillows you’ve stacked together, a small, yellow-tinted light clipped to one of the posts of your bed to give enough illumination while reading, when Azriel knocks on your door.

You keep your attention glued to the pages of your book, purposefully ignoring him the way he had done to you this morning. “Dinner’s ready,” he says, causing you to pause. He’s caught you off guard with that one. Even when you were first transferred to this hidden away safe-house, without knowing how to cook or prepare meals for yourself, having always had cooks or servants deliver food to you, he’d rarely helped you, leaving you to struggle and learn on your own. Mostly from watching him prepare things. 

And occasionally giving yourself food poisoning. 

“I can cook my own food, thank you,” you reply, wishing you had the spine to drop the pleasantries at the end, but you’re too scared of pissing him off. He’s your only real connection to the outside world, the only constant you have in your life at the moment. “Well you haven’t tonight, and you’ll be going to bed soon, so make an exception.” 

“I can decide when to eat, and when to sleep, on my own, too, thank you,” you reply, a little more tersely, wondering how much he’ll allow. You’ve got to be careful in this battle—you don’t know how to read him, don’t know if you’re pushing too far and he’ll suddenly wage war on you.

“You can’t, by the looks of it,” he replies, eyeing the clothes you’re in—definitely not your usual sleepwear. “Are you planning to try and sneak out later tonight?” 

“No,” you respond, primly. You don’t want to tell him you’re out of night-gowns to wear. Most of your clothes have been piled up, supposed to be washed. You haven’t been in the right headspace to do much though, having been too excited, and then recently too sad to. “Well get changed, and then we can eat.” 

That gets your attention, eyes locking over the top of your book, your legs being drawn tighter to your chest, watching him warily. You swallow—you’ve never eaten together before. “Is this about earlier?” You ask, forcing your gaze back to your book, away from his penetrating eyes, feeling as though he can read you like a…well, like a picture book.

Azriel is quiet for a pause before answering. “I could have been less harsh,” he relents, and you meet his gaze again, surprised. “You’re…apologising…?” You ask, a piece of your apprehension swayed. “No,” he says firmly, voice cooling to that icy sharpness again, swift enough to have you doubting the previous gentle tone he’d used. Not exactly gentle, actually, but anything compared to this tone will count as gentle in your mind. 

“Well, I’m tired, Azriel. I hope you sleep well,” you say, as much as a dismissal as you can force yourself to say, too worried about stepping out of line to say anything truly harsh. But he doesn’t take it, remaining in your door. “You’ll eat before bed.” 

“I’ve lost my appetite,” you lie. Half lie. You’re in no mood for eating after this conversation. 

“Just come and eat. You’ll feel better when you’re no longer hungry.” 

“I can make my own decisions, Azriel,” you reply sharply, irritation simmering gently in the pit of your stomach. 

His hazel eyes harden at the tone, at the flame you know is probably flickering in your gaze, shadows darkening unpleasantly as a merciless look crosses his features. “Stop being a brat and eat. I’ll be in the living room.” 

And then the door clicks shut. 

————

You keep the woollen blanket pulled over your shoulders as you quietly and reluctantly make your way to the kitchen, hoping to take whatever you can find back to your bedroom, and eat there. You haven’t decided whether or not it’s a cowardly decision or not. 

The kitchen table is empty, and you glance about, but can’t see whatever food Azriel had mentioned. That’s fine though, you’re more than happy to put something together for yourself, make to do so, when a presence gathers at your back. You stumble forward, spinning around to find the exact male stood silently at your back. “I— You scared me,” you stammer thoughtlessly, before remembering you’re trying to hold your ground against him. Some ground, at least. 

“Food’s in the living room,” he says sternly, watching you with that cold gaze of his, icy enough to have the small, soft hairs rising up the length of your back, prickling at the nape of your neck. You swallow, raising your chin a little higher, keeping yourself calm as you level him with a somewhat composed look. “I’m going to eat in my room,” you say, trying not to let your apprehension show, steeling your spine to hold firm. But—

“You’re eating with me.” 

You blink. Blink again. “I’m— I’m eating in my—”

“With me.” He repeats, pinning you to the cold tile floor with a look worthy of the Winter court. Glacial, and commanding. “Okay…” you mumble, glancing away from the hard look. 

Azriel seems to be satisfied with your adherence, turning in the doorway a few moments later, obviously expecting you to follow. 

And you do. 

————

Your breaths have turned somewhat deep, chest rising and falling evenly, but he’ll keep you here a little longer before waking you. 

His book is sat—finished—on the arm of the sofa, his wings draped over its back, empty plates discarded in the sink where his shadows had carried them once you’d both finished. You’re a pleasant change to the personalities he becomes accustomed to in his own family, stubborn and sometimes standoffish. It’s pleasant to simply have to apply a slightly cold look to you, and have you fumbling beneath it, acquiescing to his demands. 

Azriel glances to his side, and takes you in.

At some point between finishing your meal and starting on your own book, you’d become lethargic and dozy—he’d known you’d be going to bed soon, and there’s a kernel of satisfaction in his chest that he would know you so well. That he was right, rather. 

Your head had tipped onto his shoulder, fingers clasped greedily between the pages of your book, begging to be read for only a little longer but lethargy had stolen you away. Your lips are mostly shut, a small parting between the centre points where your upper lip rises from your lower one, and you look quiet. A little later he’d been stumbled by his instincts, lithely wrapping an arm around you so your cheek smushed against the crook beneath his shoulder, and you’d seemed almost more contented, fingers sliding out from the home of your book to lazily grapple across his stomach, delicately snaring their way around his side, arm strewn across his lap as you huddled into his warmth. Your comparatively small figure instinctively yearning for the physical company of another. 

Azriel dips his head, taking a soft inhale of your scent—you smell like the sun, and grass that’s been freshly cut, something thick and blossomy laying beneath it. His nose brushes your hair, but he hardly registers it, pressing closer so you’re flush with his side, his hands splaying across your soft and supple form, dipping beneath the blanket you’d carried with you from your bedroom. His fingers glide subconsciously up your arm, wrapping over your shoulder as he brings his lips to graze the crown of your head.

Hazel eyes snap open, and he pulls himself away, heart beating hard in his chest. 

Azriel tries to cast his gaze elsewhere, anywhere aside from the lovely female curving herself into his side, like a small animal nestling during hibernation. Her scent is in his lungs, in his body, in his blood, wrapping itself securely around him, but he knows he can’t allow himself any further. You’re Eris’s sister—there’s enough baggage in that title alone to keep him far, far away. 

There should be enough, anyway. 

Shadows brush a strand of hair from your face, and you shift in your sleep, hand briefly clutching at his side as you shift, practically pressing your face into the crook of his shoulder and neck, each teasing breath tickling the sensitive skin. Azriel clenches his jaw, and lightly grips your hair, plying you back so he can see your sleep-softened face. He swallows thickly when he sees your lips are parted a little wider, his blood heating as he stares quietly, intently. His breathing becomes a little shallow, and he finds himself leaning forward ever so slightly, as if drawn in. 

But then he looks away, brows narrowed in deep disgust at himself. He will never see you through a romantic lens—you’re Eris’ sister. Those affectionate touches that sometimes seep from his fingertips into your skin cannot happen. 

Ever. 

Azriel glances back at you, before firmly shoving you down into the sofa.

He knows can be a little rough with your body without having to worry about any consciousness surfacing. 

Your head is tipped over the far arm, exposing the elegant length of your unmarked neck, spine arched to fit the curve of the furniture and he presses his lips to the small swell in your throat, pressing firm, rough kisses down to your collar bones, pulling your scent down in deep lungfuls. His roughened palms guide your thighs apart, and his hips press tight between your own, firmly grinding against the soft heat of your sex as he satiates the wicked desire curling down his spine. It’s been months since he last saw you, and he denies himself any sort of sexual relief if it is not like this—with you with him. 

He still remembers the searing disgust he’d felt after the first time one of these thoughts had shown to have such a firm grasp on his desire. But then he’d understood it was fine to play with you sexually, to dangle you across his fantasies, flip you into various positions so long as he kept his lust under control. He’d come to understand that it was better this way, to contain you within his mind through such an objectifying lens. 

To reduce you so fundamentally to something he could toy with. 

Azriel stiffens when a small noise slips from your throat. Beneath his lips he can feel the fluttering beat of your pulse, erratic and wild, like a butterfly caught in a web. Desperate to escape with the trembling stutter of its lovely, delicate wings. 

He shifts his weight onto one arm, allowing the other to slide between your legs, palm cupping your heat, and he groans softly, head hanging so his brow is resting between your breasts. His breathing becomes laboured, lips grazing against your skin as his fingers splay across your underwear, able to feel the small bump at the apex of your thighs beneath the knuckles at the base of his fingers. 

Digits press tentatively against your entrance, and he exhales heavily, lust building in his chest, but…

Azriel pulls away from your body, his muscles soaked and groaning with lethargy and strain. 

His jaw works, steadying himself while his shadows rearrange your disarrayed limbs, closing your legs and bringing the blanket to wrap across your torso again before returning to him. 

He takes a steadying breath, calming his arousal before settling himself at the furthest part of the sofa, allowing his shadows to creep back over to you, waking you from your sleep. 

————

You blink wearily, eyes peeking open and then you’re squirming gently against the cold brush of something swirling over the intimate expanse of your throat, brushing beneath your ear. 

With some effort, you manage to sit upright, spine hurting from being curved over the arm of the sofa, and you gain awareness swiftly enough to spot the darkness darting away back to its master. Your lips part slightly as you inhale for a sigh, limbs stretching, shoulders pulling back to relieve the tension that’s stitched them together. You look about, a yawn rising from your throat and you cover your mouth as you rub your eye. “I…did I fall asleep?” You ask, trying half-heartedly to blink away some of the sleep and get your bearings. 

“You fell asleep,” Azriel confirms, not looking up from his book, apparently nearing its end. “How long for?” You ask, pushing back as another yawn seeks to rise from your chest, fatigue weighing heavily on your eyes. He turns a page, attention following along the lines, reaching the sentence’s end before responding. “Half an hour.” 

You glance up at the clock on the mantle piece, realising how late it’s gotten. You hope this won’t make it difficult to fall back asleep once you get to bed. 

Pulling the blanket a little closer across your chest, legs bending further at the knee to curl into yourself, you glance to where the empty plates should be but realise he must have already put them away. “The food was nice…” you hedge, feeling a thinks is in order, even if you didn’t ask for it. Azriel makes a sound of disinterested acknowledgement, and your lips press together in a thin line. Wasn’t the reason behind making food to supposedly ease the tension between you? 

“You know, I’m not sure there’s any point in saying this, since you’re so stubborn,” you say, trying to get his attention. Hazel eyes pause over the page, before his gaze is shifting to rest on you, his lips slightly downturned with displeasure. You swallow, but persist. “It wouldn’t hurt you to be less cold to me, Azriel.” You wait, tension tightening in your throat for his reply, but he remains utterly silent, and you gather he has nothing to say to you. 

You incline your chin. “You know you’re the only person I really get to see.”

“You get to see your brother,” he replies evenly.

“Really, Azriel? What was the point of even making this meal? Of visiting me? You could do it all without me even aware, but choose to make your presence known,” you argue, clutching the blanket tighter. “It’s like you’re trying to make this as miserable and as isolating as possible. It’s like you’re trying to punish me for something I’m not even guilty of.” 

“I don’t owe you my time.” 

“No…but you don’t owe me coldness either.” 

His hazel gaze sharpens, heavy brows narrowing to darken the hollow atop his eyes. “Very well. Come here.” 

Your shoulders stiffen, lungs tensing as you look at him, lips parting subconsciously in question. “…What…?” 

The Illyrian raises himself from the sofa, his towering, lethally muscled body unfolding, talon tipped wings flaring slightly at his back, shadows seeping from his skin, slithering onto the floor. His arms open threateningly, an icy glint in his eyes, palms open as if poised to wrap around your throat should you step too close. “Come here,” he repeats lowly, a sinister drag grating in his throat, a look like detest tucked between his brows. “If you want comfort, I can give you comfort.” 

His shadows deepen as they pool on the floor, obscuring the rug from sight, making it appear as though he’s stood atop inky black water that will swallow you beneath its icy surface the minute you get too close. 

And yet despite every obvious warning, every fibre of your body prickling at the looming danger, you can’t help the tremble in your fingers, or the feeble flutter of your heart as anticipation filters through your veins. 

The shadows are even colder than they look, an ice more piercing than the sharp bite of the air that settles across the land in the dead of winter, but when your arms tentatively wrap around his waist, he’s warm. Perhaps the only comfort you can find in his Illyrian-trained body—the jutting press of his hip bone; the way a handle of a blade is digging into your leg from where it’s strapped on the outside of his thigh; the sense of threat that wraps itself around you when his arms close in and you know you wouldn’t be able to escape should he choose to end you right there. 

You lay your brow against his chest, head lowered slightly as you memorise the feel of touch, skin tingling beneath the contact points, and you don’t want to let go. 

“Is this really so difficult for you?” You whisper. 

————

Would she cry if he kissed her? 

If he laced his destructive fingers through her hair so she was forced to look at him, and roughly set his mouth over hers? 

Or would she lean into it? 

Would she be so desperate for the feeling of touch against her skin, the taste of sweat in the air, the sound of lips and tongue and teeth meshing, that she would curve into it? 

Would the smell of iron bother her, if he chained her to his bed?   

————

You look up at him silently, but his features are hard and set, an impenetrable wall behind his eyes and you sense you won’t get anywhere with him. Your brow falls back to settle on his chest, taking in the last moments before you have to pull away. 

But his scar-toughened fingers lace through your hair so you’re forced to incline your head to look at him, and his lips are parted as if to speak, but he pauses. Watching you. 

Your eyes scan his features, but he’s unreadable. 

His thumb shifts ever so slightly against your scalp, as if to stroke across you, but he doesn’t. Instead his grip loosens, and it’s time to step away. 

“Get to bed,” he orders quietly. Releasing you. Lightly pushing you away. 

“You need some rest.” 

————

You’re thrown off by the encounter. He’s so contradicting.

Why be so cruel about your brother only to turn around and offer you a warm meal? Why the cold attitude only to allow you to sleep peacefully at his side? Why so threatening when he lets you so close? 

And now this, too. 

You don’t know how to feel, and it scares you. 

Laying atop your bed are three folded shirts, a cut of square paper laying atop the stack. 

‘Use these for now. More will arrive next week.’

You remain at the edge of the bed, fingers turning slack as you stare at the small script, blanket sliding down one shoulder. Blue, dark blue, and black. It’s easy to tell they’re far too large. It’s easy to tell they’re probably…

The blanket pools on the floor, shaky fingers raising the dark blue fabric from your bed, the shirt unfolding. You bring the collar to your face, pressing your nose into the material, inhaling softly. 

They’re his. 

Your lips part on a trembling exhale, heart fluttering as your fingers stutter in the fabric, inhaling deeper, trying to memorise the scent. It’s the only comfort you can get, kept so far from the world. 

It’s an effort to part with the newly discovered comfort, worried he might change his mind and remove them by the time you’ve emerged from your washroom—but they’re still there, exactly where you left them. From the sound of it you’ll only have these for a week, and then he’ll take them back. Is it worse to give comfort then take it away, or to never give it at all? 

You can’t help but feel this is the crueler of the two options. 

The linen is somewhat rough against your freshly softened skin, rasping over your arms, shoulders, breasts. The hem settles at your mid-thigh. The sleeves are too long but you don’t roll them—the size is comforting. Like you’re wrapped up and looked after. You’re on your own for so much of your life, you rely on yourself the overwhelming majority of the time—you can permit this dependence. 

Maybe you can permit a little more, too. 

Crawling onto your bed, you carefully unbutton the black shirt, laying your pillow on the interior, before buttoning it back up. You pause, looking down at the make-shift body. Teeth push against the inside of your bottom lip, tugging on it in thought. Is this okay? Is it weird? 

You can’t let him see, is all. You’ll unbutton it in the morning. Fold it up and put it with the blue one. Hide any evidence. 

But for now, you settle atop your mattress, still unaccustomed to the rasp of linen against your skin, the presence of his scent filling your room, infusing into your sheets, and pillow. It’s dark enough outside for you to feel safe enough to admit that it’s heavenly. It’s dark enough to settle beside it, wrapping your arms around the soft ‘torso’, pulling it to your chest. It’s dark enough for you to not feel ashamed as you treasure the safety his scent brings, easily sending you off into sleep. 

It’s dark enough for you to not have seen the shadows lurking beneath your bed. 

To not have felt the eyes watching you intently. 

Just waiting for you to let down your guard. 

————

The house is dark, and the house is silent.

You’re asleep, and there’s oil in his veins, burning like liquid fire, making him soar. 

It’s just you, him, and his shadows. Not a soul in sight. 

 

The Mother might even look away, turning her gaze from what he’s about to do—the wrongs he’s about to commit, and the decision he’s going to repeat. By all means you’re under his protection after Rhys decided to put you here, in his safe-house; he can make whatever call he likes. You’re his. 

Azriel moves like a wraith down the hallway, closing in as his hunger grows, starvation licking at his bones, threatening to turn them porous should he deny the need in his body for much longer, being drawn to you by an invisible thread that gleams resplendently within the darkness of his heart. As though a tether is guiding him to you. Calling him to you. 

Your bedroom door doesn’t make a sound when he enters; his pause is caused by an ulterior reason. A sickening satisfaction unspools in his gut as he paces to the foot of your bed, his shadows curling with glee at the sight they greedily hoard, stuffing their memory full of the view before them. How you’re curled beneath the duvet, a pillow clutched to your front, hugging it between your thighs, cheek pressed to the swell of the cushion where your arms have pushed the feathers to each end. The dark blue collar he can see peeking out from the floral-patterned duvet. 

He allows his hand to palm himself through his leathers once, needing to take the edge off before continuing. Reminding himself stimulation is yet to come. 

Shadows seep forward onto the bed, crawling across the pale coloured sheets, clutching at their edge before slowly dragging the coverings away, revealing your sleep-softened form. 

Azriel pauses. His breathing quickens, pulse spiking as his lips part, pupils surely dilating to take as much of you in as they can, the world noticeably brightening as he makes room for more light to filter in. Better to see you with. And the— 

He inhales deeply, dragging a laboured breath into his lungs in attempts to steady himself, spotting the black shirt wrapped around the pillow you’re clutching. Your thighs wrapped around the cushion you’ve draped in his shirt, saturated with his scent, chosen to keep so close to your body when you’re at your most defenceless. 

You shift in your sleep, squeezing ‘him’, nosing at the collar of the shirt. 

It’s like you’re doing it to entice him. For the sole purpose of keeping his attention, provoking his arousal. Even in the depths of unconsciousness. 

Azriel swallows, shadows rolling the thick duvet to the side to make room for their master on the bed, before softly trickling toward you, making to wrap around your legs… He changes his mind, calling them back at once as he settles on the mattress, not a single sound to be heard as he infiltrates the safety of your bedroom. 

You skin is soft and hot beneath his hands, hands that wrap around your calf, cupping the interior of your knee to bring them apart, shadows afforded the job of removing the pillow, rolling you onto your back. 

His breathing has deepened, arousal thoroughly distorting his scent as he takes in the way the fabric drapes over your form. The hem has ridden up your thighs, revealing your hips and the pure white cotton covering you; the collar is undone, teasingly exposing the length of your throat to him, taunting him with something he can’t have; the dark blue fabric settles perfectly over your breasts, erotically draped to hint at form without the crudeness of nudity. He doesn’t want or need the aid of sight, of nakedness. Keeping you hidden, and wrapped in darkness is much more enticing. 

Azriel reaches forward, having settled between your legs—bent at the knee and propped up by his shadows—daring to coast his palm up your front, gliding between your breasts in a show of ownership, fingertips lightly settling on your sternum. Feeling the rise and fall of your chest with each regular, even breath. His eyes trail lower to where the hem of the dark blue shirt meets the bare skin of your thighs, and he takes a peek at what’s beneath. Dragging the hem up by only a few inches, just shy of your navel. Azriel’s thumb skims the area, fingers grazing with a feather-light touch across your abdomen. Imagining what it would be like to feel his outline beneath his palm. 

His eyes roll with arousal, before he’s retracting to attend to himself, gripping his cock in his hand, hot and heavy and aching. 

Azriel swallows, giving himself the reprieve of a few dragging strokes to alleviate the tension before lazily swiping his thumb over his tip, gathering the precum that had begun leaking. He looks at the creamy liquid beaded on his thumb; looks at the cream colour of cotton; looks back. Azriel reaches forward, focus glued to your cunt as he rubs his thumb against the apex of your thighs, cotton darkening as the damp saturates, pressing his arousal into you. He bites down on a groan. 

It’s been so long—he can feel it in his body, the want, the need. He’s deprived himself of you for far too long, getting caught up in court matters—with your father finally dead, and your eldest brother assuming the throne, times have been turbulent, alliances on the constant verge of crumbling, but he’s seen it all through. And now he gets to destress. Away from Velaris, away from Windhaven, away from the Hewn City. All that tension, all that strain, and a week or so confined to this house with you. 

He wishes he could put bruises into you, rub your wrists raw from iron shackles, litter your thighs with his teeth marks and imprints of his fingertips, just so he could truly break the new High Lord of Autumn. He finds his lips curved at the thought of Eris discovering even a fraction of the nightmarish things he’s done to you…

Azriel remembers the first step he’d taken on this path. How he’d wanted to see you squirm. 

You hadn’t shut up when you’d first been moved here, constantly nagging him for updates on what was happening, pawing for details about your brother, testing his patience. He’d wanted to knock you down a peg or two, give you reason to fumble when looking him in the eyes, so he’d taken to slipping small doses of an aphrodisiac into your tea just to have the pleasure of watching you squirm. Trying to pretend nothing was wrong when he was watching, not wanting him to know the instincts occurring within your female body. He remembers how he’d provoked an argument, making you believe you’d started it…how he’d stared you down then, and you’d buckled. Skin hot, pulse fluttery in your throat. He’d wanted to grip you by your soft cheeks and force you to look at him…the satisfaction would have been worth it. Seeing how ashamed you would be, thinking the arousal was your own fault…thinking that he thought the arousal was your own fault. 

That would have been good to see Eris’ reaction to. 

Or the time he’d released into his hand, then spending minutes patiently watching the slow drip, drip, drip of cum as it fell into your mouth. The last of it smeared across your lips. Salt on your tongue in the morning. 

How would the High Lord of Autumn react, how far would he break to know that all he sacrificed had been for nothing? Risking torture if their alliance had been discovered, the bargain made Under The Mountain, leading the rest of Prythian to believe you dead for the sake of keeping you safe. And instead you’d been tossed straight into the Spymaster’s cruel and crooked hands, free to twist and warp and break. 

And with Eris out of the way, he could… 

Azriel’s eyes go briefly out of focus, centuries of discipline slipping as he settles over your sleeping form, tentatively lowering himself to your throat. Shadows tip your face to one side, your cheek laying against the pillow, exposing the tendon keeping your head on your shoulders. Hot breath fans across your skin, lungs trembling with desire, exhaling puffs of yearning that he has no right to possess. 

His wings shift before turning lax, settling across the bed as he gently drags the flattened end of his tongue up the skin of your neck. 

His cock twitches against his stomach, almost painfully hard from the arousal burning in his blood. 

Like before when you’d fallen asleep in the living room, he shifts his hips to rest between your own, the thick length of him resting bare against the pale cotton. His breathing becomes laboured as he rolls his hips, precum leaking from his tip, drizzling down the underside of his cock, smearing down his length and saturating your underwear. Rubbing himself against you, the pressure created between your bodies like liquid heaven. Relief bottled and stored, ready for him to take from whenever he pleases. 

He needs release. He doesn’t want to wait any longer, and he doesn’t have to either. You’re right here, legs open and ready. Won’t your underwear look pretty with his cum dripping over it? Where he can rub more of it into the material? Let you unknowingly sleep with his release tucked so intimately between your thighs. 

Gods, the mental image has him panting for breath, sitting back as he wraps his hand more roughly around his cock, affording swift, hard strokes to himself, keeping that picture in his mind. But what if… 

Azriel forces himself to stop, panting heavily now, his eyes widened marginally from the idea that happened to pass into his mind. Hazel eyes flick down to your underwear, his hand squeezing his cock as he pauses. He swallows, skin feeling hot and flushed. Maybe he could…

He swallows again before he releases himself, ignoring the shake in his hands as his fingers slide beneath the cloth at your hips, latching onto the band before slowly, carefully inching it away. Parting it from your body, pulling the cotton up your thighs, cresting the curve of your knees, delicately removing it from your legs, pulling the underwear from beneath your feet. Azriel stares at what’s now in his hands. Hazel eyes flick to your bare heat, then back to the underwear. 

Breathing deeply, he raises the white cotton to his face, nosing at the fabric before taking a lick. His hand moves on its own, stroking his cock as he pulls the scent of your sex into his lungs, wanting it to disperse into his bloodstream, become part of his body. His discipline is slipping, and fast. He doesn’t want to obey it. He doesn’t need to, here. 

His heart jumps with relief at the stark realisation. There’s no need for him to keep his discipline—so long as he leaves no trace of himself that you’ll find, he can do whatever he likes. Whatever his mind can conjure up. It’s a dangerously freeing thought. 

Azriel shifts closer, his heart pounding as he settles between your thighs, inhaling deeply when he guides the head of his cock to nestle at your entrance. Not going in, just resting there, slotted nicely between your lips. You feel so warm. So warm, and wet, and inviting. Gods, you’re wet. Not enough to make an entrance smooth—not by a long shot with his size—but he can still feel the tell-tale signs of arousal. 

Uncaring for dragging this out any longer, he spreads your underwear over his palm so the dampened gusset will rub against his cock, stroking himself repeatedly, wanting to see what you’ll look like with cum splattered over your bare pussy. Gods, you’ll look divine, with release wetting your cunt. How pretty it’ll be, getting to rub it into your clit. 

Azriel gasps deeply, biting down on a growl as the high hits him, muscles turning taut, bucking into his hand as pleasure overrides his senses. He opens his eyes to watch as he spills onto your heat, spurting thick ropes of cum between your legs. Fuck, he can’t help himself. His hips buck just as the thought passes through his mind, the head of his cock slipping inside of you and he refuses to let himself pull back, emptying the rest of his cum into your cunt. 

It takes a while for him to realise what he’s done—the mess he’s made on you and inside of you. 

Fuck. 

Azriel heaves a sigh of frustration, realising he’s also made a mess of your underwear, strings of cum already sticking the fabric to his cock. He needs to clean it up. 

Discarding your underwear for now, he reaches forward, applying a gradual pressure to your abdomen in attempts to begin squeezing his release out of you. Azriel licks his lips when he watches it begin to drip from your entrance, scooping it up with his middle and forth finger. More slides out after. So wasteful. He needs to get it all out. Azriel slides his fingers inside of you, curling them to try and guide his release out. 

A quiet sigh slips from your lips. 

Azriel turns rigid. His cock twitching. 

Hazel eyes flick down to your bare heat, and he repeats the motion, this time watching you. Your features scrunch faintly, and he realises he can make out the pinch of your nipples through his shirt. He leans forward slightly, shadows attentive as he slides his thick fingers in further, his attention narrowing entirely onto you as he presses upwards. A noise gets caught in your throat. Something sweet sounding, and wanton.

Azriel presses deeper, fingers sliding in further, curling lightly, pushing and rubbing at different parts until…

You flinch in your sleep, a softly startled moan slipping from your lips. 

He curls the pads of his fingers into that spot, bending them at the knuckle so the digits slant into the part that’s dragging these reactions out of you. He pushes against it, hungry for more, thumb habitually settling on your clit, oscillation made easier by the slippery cum splattered across your cunt…that he’s feeding back into you. 

Azriel bites down on a groan as he scoops more of it up before pressing his fingers back to your entrance and shoving it in, pushing what was already released inside further, tucking it away as he searches for that spot again. He needs it to be kept inside of you. It’s not enough to have it coating you, he needs you to unknowingly have it within your body, perfectly storing it away. A secret shared between him and your cunt that you’re oblivious to. 

The rise and fall of your chest is much more pronounced, and he wants to push the shirt out of the way so he can lay his mouth over your breasts, flick his tongue over your doubtlessly sensitive nipples. How would you react to that? With his fingers hitting that spot, his thumb over your clit, his tongue and shadows pinching and licking at your breasts? 

You’d come on the spot. 

————

You jolt awake, panting and breathless. Far too hot, and…fuck. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck… Mother above…

Your hands scramble, shoving the duvet away as you roll on top of ‘him’, thighs straddling the pillow as your hips buck frantically. You cry out as one of the buttons scrapes across your clit, teeth pushing into your lip to muffle the moans working up from your chest, grinding down against the clothed cushion, dragging your hips across the plush comfort, aiming for the buttons. 

Panting and flushed, you stiffly roll onto your back, flopping down into your mattress trying to regain your breath. 

You glance down at yourself. Thighs parted, bent at the knee. The shirt riding up your stomach that you hastily push back down. 

Teeth prod at your lower lip, toes curling as your fingers explore between your legs. Slipping beneath the band of your underwear. They come away glistening, a thick, creamy strand connecting your digits to your cunt. 

You flush, hurriedly drying your fingers on your inner thigh, trying to get rid of the evidence. 

Cauldron boil you, that’s never happened before. Sure, you’ve had hours of heightened sensitivity, when you could feel every hair on your body, every scrape of fabric across your skin, horribly aware of the clothing touching your shoulders, your arms, your breasts, but never something so intense. Never…this. 

It’s always when Azriel’s around. 

Shame sparks, and you tug your hand away from your heat. Rolling quickly onto your side to pretend it away. 

You clutch the pillow tighter to your front, soothing your erratic pulse with that scent. His scent. Maybe because you’ve just woken it feels stronger, thicker…heavier; more concentrated than you remember it being. Probably your own arousal mixing with the remnants of what he left of the shirts. 

Gods, you’re not going to be able to look him in the eyes tomorrow. Not without thinking about…

You beg your mind to shut up. 

He’s the only male you’re getting to see. It makes sense your body might instinctively want him.

You just wish you didn’t feel so guilty for thinking of him, when you were on top of that pillow.

————

It doesn’t take long for you to nod back off, and Azriel internally relaxes. 

His skin is too hot, arousal spiking his temperature to an almost unbearable degree, but he’d had to escape quickly when he’d felt the high rising in your body. A sixth sense telling him you were there. Maybe he can’t be as rough as he thought with you. 

He knew he should have stirred in some of that sleeping powder with your meal. 

Next time. 

First, he needs to deal with the heat radiating from his body, the remnants of arousal still prominent in his blood. The still aching weight of his cock. But he’s done for tonight. That was a close enough call on its own; he doesn’t yet want to resort to ties and blindfolds and gags. Even if that sixth sense tells him you might enjoy it, if done right. With how eagerly you’d pressed yourself against him, how you’d nuzzled up to the pillow, how quickly you’d come on his fingers…

This time he doesn’t deny himself the pleasure of imagining what it would be like having you move for him. Getting to see how you might arrange yourself under or over him. What you might like to touch, and suck, and ride. 

The steamy heat of your bathroom isn’t helping with his temperature. 

He should leave. 

But next time…

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

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dark!az taglist: @honeyandhalfmoons

[red-phantom-0]

Claimed Prey

18+ Content

Dark Azriel ff ( ft.Eris Vanserra)

TWS : Possessive & obsessive behavior, stalking , dumbfication of a human , predator/prey relationship , yandere like behavior, shadow play , choking , fingering , oral play , jealous fucking , f×m×m , p^ssy slapping , attempted murder

Edit: ty for all the likes !!

Part 1

summary : a certain little fox thinks he can steal his little prey, but the little fox doesn't know is that this prey is claimed and her owner isn't scared to show it ~

my darling prey, let me show them how much you belong to me with my tongue

Azriel hates many things in life , to the squeaky tap in his little prey's apartment to the queasy feeling of sand in his shoes. Though azriel hates one thing with every fibre in him , people touching things that clearly fucking belong to him.

He watches in the shadows as Vanserra has the audacity to twirl his little prey around and flash her his little coy smile. Azriel fucking seethes. Azriel isn't a dumb owner , he's a good owner always labeling things with his name , thus the pretty little purple hickies prettily covering his preys neck .

Or maybe the fact that she reekes of his scent because maybe he sent his shadows to finger her while his high lord was giving his speech but can you blame azriel he was bored and the sight of watching his little prey squirm was way more entertaining.

Azriel doesn't give a flying fuck about how this ball is to improve diplomatic relations with the courts, frankly doesn't care that Eris is the next High Lord or that Eris is the only 'ally' the Night Court had at the moment .

All he cared about truly was the fact that Eris signed his death away when he fucking touched his little prey. Azriel watches as the pair twirl around on the dance floor , he watches as Eris whispers pretty little nothingness into her ears that has his little prey giggling.

Himself and his little prey knows that cutsey vanilla shit isn't for her , that cute picket fence dream with a loving normal lover wasn't meant for her . She can try all she wanted to fit that mold but he knew that she felt the fucking best when he's claiming her raw and hard against a wall in a alleyway or marking her neck in hickies while his shadows play with her cunt.

It's okay, little prey , your owner knows best, so don't worry, he'll take care of everything. Azriel watches as their little dancing comes to a stop , watching Eris lean close to his prey, probably asking her to go somewhere more private.

Like fucking hell that'd happen. Azriel watches as they leave to go down a hallway and follow after them silently . He watches as they both enter an empty room, and all hell breaks loose in Azriel's restraint.

Azriel winnows himself into the room causing his little prey to gasp in both horror and shock . Eris flashes Azriel a mocking grin but is met with Azriel's fist as a response . Eris groans in pain and falls to the ground and his shadows immediately hold the male hostage.

" You thought you can touch what's mine ?" Azriel groans out in fury as he approaches the male . His prey only gasps and attempts to run away, but it's too late for her as his remaining shadows wrap around her neck in a choking hold, stopping her in her escape.

Eris snarled , " It's not my fault she wanted me more than you " . Azriel practically began seeing red but opted to kicking Eris in his stomach as a response.

" I'll show you how much she wants me " Azriel says as he approaches his prey. His little prey was practically shaking but he could fucking smell her arousal a mile away. Azriel presses a chaste kiss to his preys lips.

" Mercy or punishment ? " He whispers to her , his pupils practical dilated . His prey , every so bratty told him to ' fuck off " earning a laugh from Azriel. " Mhmmm you haven't earned my dick for me to fuck you yet love " He drawls as his hands worked her dress off her.

His prey practically curses him out , ' Eris is better than you ' which earned her the shadows tightening their hold on her. Azriel only laughs at her little show of defiance before he practically pinned her to the nearby couch into a sitting position.

His prey squealed and attempted to run away but the shadows bounded her immediately. " Stop being a bratty slut before I seriously do something you won't like " Azriel threatens . His prey had the audacity to laugh at him along with Eris .

Azriel watches his prey dead in the face before he summons a knife that slices Eris' left ear clean . The lordling practically screamed bloody murder . Ignoring his screams he pushes his preys tighs apart and entered his tongue into her his warm cunt.

It was practically overflowing with her neediness and Azriel ate her to his full. His little prey began moaning once she snapped out of her shock , practically bucking her hips into his mouth . Some shadows trailed down and began tugging at her nipples while others began playing with her clit.

His prey kept screaming his name , over and over, and she practiced came , but that didn't stop Azriel as he kept going, not giving her a break whatsoever no matter how much his little prey begged.

" Disobedient little sluts don't get breaks they get used by their owners " Azriel says as he slapped her soaking cunt until it was pink. His prey let out a choked moan as she came undone for the third time this night. Azriel grinned as he watches his prey lean back into the sofa , too tired , too utterly fucked out of her mind to do anything .

It's okay , he's a good owner , he always takes care of things that belong to him . Azriel licks her cum off his mouth and orders his shadows to fuck her cunt. His prey let's out a whine and a broken moan as his shadows enter her and fuck her senseless.

His prey can only moan his name over and over like a broken record, which causes azriel to only smirk. Azriel walks away from her and walks towards Eris with a psychotic look plastered on . Eris tries to back away but the shadows surrounding him tighten around him causing him to cough his lungs out , desperate for air .

Azriel grabbed Eris by his hair , forcing the male to meet his gaze .

" Next time, Vanserra, don't touch things that don't belong to you " Azriel says with a grin as everything goes black for Eris .

Uhm idk anymore what this is 💀

[aphroditelovesu]

Yandere Bat Boys/Azriel, Rhysand and Cassian Headcanons (Poly!Romantic)

❝ 🌹 — lady l: I finished another hc of ACOTAR and I hope you like the bat boys sharing a mate. I noticed that my yanderes have been softer lately and I tried to change it up a bit here lol Good reading and forgive me for any mistakes!! ❤️

❝tw: obsessive and possessive behavior, kidnapping, Reader is the mate of the three, jealousy, mention of murder and torture.

❝🌹pairing: yandere!bat boys x gn!reader, yandere!azriel x gn!reader, yandere!rhysand x gn!reader, yandere!cassian x gn!reader.

The three brothers have always been very close and for centuries that has never changed. They had their arguments and physical fights, but they always understood each other and worked it out in the end. Everything remained normal between them for five centuries, even after everything that happened Under the Mountain, the three brothers kept their relationship the way it always was.

Until they meet you. You and Eris Vanserra were always close and endured Beron's abuse together like sibilings and trusted each other completely and you were helping him with his plans to overthrow Beron so Eris could become the new High Lord of the Autumn Court. Because of the alliance Eris was making with the Night Court to make this possible, you met your mates, the three brothers.

You knew something was wrong the moment you stepped into Hewn City. It wasn't just because that was where the real Night Court was supposed to be, or what everyone thought it really was, but because there was something strange in the air that left you intrigued and slightly scared. Only when you finally came face-to-face with the High Lord, the General and the Spymaster you have finally understand.

Mates. They were your mates. You knew it the moment you saw Rhysand's purple eyes gleam, Cassian's shocked expression, and Azriel's stern face soften. The mating bond clicked into place and your body was filled with mixed feelings. Excitement, confusion and fear. It didn't seem possible, there was no way one person could have three mates, right? Your mind tried to search for logical answers but there was no logic, they were your mates and they knew it.

To say they were blown away was a huge understatement. They didn't know what they were supposed to do the moment they found out you were their mate. They tried to keep calm, the mask they always wore, but they couldn't, not when they were as shocked as you are about this mating bond. How was it possible for a person to have more than one mate? And what were the chances that all three were yours? You were their mate, that was a fact, and it didn't take long for them to come to terms with each other.

At first they tried to solve it in a ''friendly'' way. Well, friendly in their ways, which resulted in Cassian and Azriel fighting with their fists on the ground and Rhysand staring at them with disdain. They needed to come to terms with each other before deciding how you would be introduced into the relationship. That was the master plan, but needless to say, that's not what happened.

It was Rhys who proposed a deal to share you after Cass and Az got tired of fighting each other. The arrangement was simple but it would be efficient for the three of you: each day you would spend with one of them, individually, except for specific moments when the three would be together with you. It could have happened that way, but you chose not to accept the mating bond. Or at least you tried to reject them and needless to say they didn't take it very well.

Why would you try to reject them? That wasn't right and they would never accept that. You were theirs, Mother herself had made this happen and you thought you could just reject them and it would be all right? Well, you couldn't. They didn't want to force you into this, to accept them, they wanted you to go willingly, but you made the wrong choice and it was their duty, as your mates, not to allow it.

So they kidnapped you. It wasn't the best choice to make, but you would understand why all of this and come to love them the same way they loved you, well, that's what they thought. You could remain reluctant and deny them all you wanted, but nothing would change that you are theirs as much as they are yours and nothing and no one would change that. No one would help you and even if they tried, they would never get past them without being torn apart.

Rhysand is most demanding of your attention and is constantly pestering you for it. He gets jealous easily and when that happens nothing good will come of it. He doesn't want to have to invade your mind, but if he feels you're lying in any way he will do so with no remorse. Rhys likes to have you sitting on his lap at all times, whether it's meetings or dinner parties, he prefers having you that way. The High Lord loves showering you with expensive and lavish gifts in an attempt to please you, and will sulk and become irritated if you try to refuse them. Rhysand would like to make you his High Lady/High Lord if you accept.

Cassian is the quietest in his obsession, he's not as demanding as his brother and not as possessive, he's the softest and most affectionate. He likes to spend time with you in his own way, which includes bear hugs and teaching you how to fight. Unlike the others, he wants you to learn to defend yourself and will be the one to teach you. Cass is jealous but will rarely have outbursts, usually he will take his anger out on whoever made him jealous and make you apologize to him for making him jealous, as well as being overly protective. Cassian is an emotional manipulator and will use it against you, but only if he thinks you deserve it. A real soft but just for you.

Azriel is the most dangerous. He is so possessive and controlling that it is overpowering, as well as being a skilled stalker. You will never be alone, one of his shadows will always be next to you and whispering your every move to him. Az is very protective of his mate and dutiful, although he is very aloof, he has his moments and enjoys their company silently, usually with his head resting on your shoulders and his shadows circling the two of you in a protective fashion. He likes to pampered you and will do it one way often. He definitely has the bizarre habit of watching you sleep and will always have a shadow surrounding you in your dreams.

It wasn't their choice to share a mate, but they warmed to the idea and having you in the middle just brought them closer together. It wasn't just because you were their mate, but because there was a glaring need to have you all to themselves, locked away in Velaris so only they could see you. They tried to win your love in a more normal way even though you got kidnapped but soon it won't matter anymore. You are theirs and end of story. Any threat will be dealt with quickly and painfully. Rhysand pulling you almost naked into his lap, Cassian kneeling at your feet and Azriel behind you watching everything. That was your life, but don't worry, Cass will make sure everything is accepted quickly. It's not like you have a choice and if you choose to fight, Hewn City will be waiting for you.

[azsazz]

Infest

Stalker!Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel really really likes you.

Warnings: Stalking.

Word Count: 2864

Notes: Going to try my hand at something a little darker. No plans for what's going to happen next, so it might be a hot minute before the next part. 🖤

Also high-key for my Ghost girlies 🤭

_________________________________________

Thursday, October 31st

The city streets are crowded for the holiday, and Azriel’s there, too.

He must choose his target carefully, but he’s had one picked out since the first time he saw her strolling down the rainy streets one evening, all alone with no protection, head buried in her phone.

And that target is you.

He keeps his head dipped low as not to call attention to himself. The dark hood of his sweatshirt curls over his head, concealing his features. All attempts at blending in are futile, because he isn’t dressed as a cinematic axe murderer or a gimmicky super hero. He’s clothed as he always is; black hoodie and matching jeans, paired with thick-soled, military grade boots.

It doesn’t matter, anyway, because you haven’t noticed him in the forty-three days, sixteen hours, fifteen minutes, and twenty-one…twenty-two seconds that he’s been following you.

Azriel can recount how you live your days by heart. He doesn’t need to, because you haven’t left his line of sight since he’d set his focus on you. At five-thirty, you wake up. In the gym at the top floor of your apartment complex by six. You run on the treadmill Mondays and Fridays, attempt the Stairmaster on Tuesdays and Thursdays, with sporadic weight-lifting in between. It hurts to watch, and there have been a handful of times Azriel has wanted to give up his position, make himself known in your life, and show you proper form in and outside of the gym. Wednesday is your rest day. After that it’s back to your apartment to get ready for your day. Protein shake, shower, blow-dry your hair, followed by breakfast, dressing in whatever you wear to your office, though he thinks he might even have your outfits memorized because there are only so many options in your tiny closet.

Tonight, you’re dressed as a scantily clad little red riding hood, which only makes him feel even more like the big, bad wolf that he is. He has much too patience, too much time, and has too much interest invested in you.

It’s dark, which is his home. He’s always sought comfort in the black of night, has had to with the household her grew up in, where he was often locked in the closet for bad behavior that was in no way his own doing. He would stay in there for so long his parents forgot, that time lost all meaning. Inside of that closet, he learned that he could fear the dark or thrive in it, and Azriel chose the latter.

Azriel slides off of the bus stop bench, trailing you and your friend. His eyes are sharp, calculating as he drinks in the surroundings. He is always on alert, even though the streets are filled with joyous laughter and squealing children that make the constant ringing in his ears sound like symbols clashing, reverberating his eardrums in the most annoying sense.

He shakes his head clear and refocuses on his target.

You’re with a friend. Morrigan. She’s the one that always has you rolling your eyes when you take her phone calls. Azriel knows this because he screens them. He doesn’t like her one bit, thinks that there are better options in your friend group that you should hang out with more, like Feyre or Tarquin. If Azriel really thought that he could pull it off, Mor would be gone from your life for good.

Okay, he knows that he can pull something exactly like that off. He didn’t train for a decade as a Night Stalker in the Army to not know how to murder quickly and quietly. Years of training has turned Azriel into a nocturnal animal. Always watching, always waiting for the right moment to strike.

You stumble over the curb when you cross the street and Azriel’s fists tighten in his pockets. You’re not paying any attention to your surroundings. There could people out here who want to bring harm upon you, and you’re too unaware, much too focused on the story Mor is telling you, her voice so loud that Azriel can hear her nasally pitch over the crowd of teens he shoves his way through.

“Hey!” A girl in a skeleton shirt snaps. Azriel deigns her a microsecond of a look. Cheap skeleton mask pushed up into her hair. Black circles painted around her eyes. Much too old to be trick-or-treating. “Watch it!”

Azriel’s only response is to snatch the mask off of her head and keep walking.

The teen calls out after him, outraged, but her friends circle in on her, making sure that she doesn’t start something that they can’t finish. She’s shouting something about getting him on video and that she’s calling her father, who she claims is the chief of police in this corrupt city.

She really shouldn’t be flaunting that information.

He doesn’t have to look up at you to know where you and Mor are headed, but he does because he’s meticulous in his work, and a simple double-triple-even quadruple check is not out of the ordinary for him.

Azriel hates and loves the platform red heels you’re wearing. Hates them because you’ve tripped once already, and they’re not good for running should you run into trouble. That is, trouble that isn’t him, because when he comes for you, there will be no getting away.

He loves them because they look incredibly sexy on you, make your legs look miles tall, and he wants them hooked around his shoulders while he devours you.

Your heels are tall. You look like a fawn standing for the first time. Azriel could blame it on the two drinks and three shots you had at your apartment prior to moseying throughout the city to find a club that doesn’t have a line around the corner to party in for the night, but he’s seen you trip over less. Clumsy would be your middle name if he didn’t already know what it is.

The dress you’re wearing isn’t even a dress at all. The hem hits you just below your crotch, and he knows you’re not wearing any shorts beneath it because he’s caught sight of the little red bow on the waistband of your panties already. His jaw flexes where it’s locked together as the breeze lifts the cheap fabric.

You laugh, brushing down your skirts. He’s caught two father’s drinking you in like bloodhounds. There are women who stare, also, and more than a handful of teenagers. Azriel has to shove the violent thoughts from his mind. He should have made his move weeks ago, because you would never leave the house in something like this if he had anything to say about it.

The bodice of your top—if it can be considered a top at all—is tight, accentuating your curves and pushing your breasts to your chin. It’s raunchy. It’s seductive. You look like an escort, one who is paid top dollar for the services you’d offer.

The crimson cape you’re wearing is the most modest piece of clothing you have on. It’s pulled over your curled hair, blocking your peripherals. If he were to stalk closer to you, you’d never see him coming. Not that you would anyway, not until he’s ready for you to see him.

His cock twitches in his pants, and he rips his gaze from your legs, traveling upward until all he’s looking at is your matching red cloak that currently conceals the rest of your body from how you’ve wrapped it around yourself in a makeshift coat. It’s brisk this time in October, and Azriel would happily give you the clothes off his back if you’re cold, or to cover you up.

Azriel examines the mask he tore from the teens head. It’s a skull poorly sewn to a balaclava, and it makes him think of previous recon missions he’s been on where he’s had to wear a mask of his own. It trudges up a feeling in his gut like he’s been stabbed with a hot knife again, but he shoves it over his head anyway, and readjusts his hood.

You and Mor come to a stop at the crosswalk. There’s a group of people waiting at the light, so Azriel slips closer. He’s not worried about you seeing him. If you did, it wouldn’t matter anyway, because you have no idea who he is, that he knows you, has been following you. You are blissfully unaware, and that gives Azriel an uneasy edge.

You smell sweet, like candy and cherries. It’s his favorite of your perfumes. Intoxicating, delicious. He wants to crane down and press his nose into the crook of your neck, lick it off of you until you’re a whimpering mess with your hands buried deep in his hair and your back arched against him, begging him for more.

Mor’s voice pulls him back into the present. She talks about a man that she had a one-night stand with and is rating him on how well he pleasured her in bed. Not well, it sounds like, and Azriel knows that he’d had no trouble working you to orgasm because of the good girl you’d be for him.

Soon.

“And when do you suppose you’re getting laid again?” Morrigan scoffs when you tease her about her horribly lay. The walk sign lights up and the two of you begin to cross the street. Mor crosses her arms over her chest, and all the action does is push her breasts higher into the sky. A man Azriel passes curses low under his breath, eyes glued to her chest. Azriel checks him with his shoulder as he passes, causing the man to grunt and spit that same curse at him, this time sounding irritated instead of like a man cursed to have the beauty of a young woman flaunted in his face.

Azriel keeps walking, lengthening his strides as you turn a corner, nearly at the bar.

You sigh, long and lonely. It makes Azriel’s cock jump as he imagines you making that noise when he pulls his cock from your mouth only to allow you to swallow down a desperate breath before he’s shoving himself back down your throat. He’s heard you make that noise aplenty: while you’re dreaming sinful dreams and he’s standing in the darkness of your room, watching you.

He imagines the noises you might make with his fingers in your cunt or bouncing on his cock. With a plug nestled in that tight little ass and your hands tied to the headboard. With clamps around your nipples and his face buried between your legs. Moan, maybe, beg, scream, cry, thrash, writhe, plead beneath his touch.

The number of things he’d like to do to you is endless. He’s had over forty-three days to think about exactly what he’s going to do to you.

“I don’t know,” you respond. Azriel knows. “Whenever I find the right one, I guess.”

Mor laughs, and Azriel doesn’t fail to notice the way that your shoulders stiffen at the shrill sound. Another strike against the blonde. “See, that’s your problem! You’re all ‘I need to find the right man,’ but you’re never actually testing them out! It’s not like the man of your dreams is going to drop out of the sky—” Azriel could. He’s trained in that. “And sweep you off your feet. You have to try!”

The streets are busier in the heart of town. The demographic has changed from toddlers and children dressed in silly costumes to adults dressed in even less. The bars that line the street are all packed to the brim, and Azriel’s never been a fan of places with this many people, but he’s used to confined spaces, and being pressed up against a wall in a dark bar while watching you let loose for once won’t be the worst night of his life by far.

He knows which bar you’re going to. Rita’s, the dirtiest, diviest bar on the block. It’s been a staple in Velaris for years, and only the locals, but they play the best music. You and your friends have been going here since before it was legal. You hope that they’re here because Feyre mentioned she and Rhys were in the Uber, but you know that they tend to get sidetracked in each other more often than not.

Maybe Cassian or Tarquin will be there.

“I try!” you defend, but it weak. You hate being on dating apps, and the conversations with the guys that you do match with are drier than the Sahara. And within days they always unmatch you. “It’s not my fault that I’m looking for more interesting conversation than a ‘hey, how was your day,’ or ‘sorry I didn’t respond, I fell asleep.’” You’re not boring, you refuse to believe that you’re the problem in these situations. These men can be so boring sometimes, and your life is already mundane enough, you don’t need entertain a man who is going to pussy out on you before the first date or only wants you to put out.

You and Mor get into the short line. Attor is working the door tonight. He’s a. large, brooding security guard that’s been working for Rita’s forever. He’s known you and Mor since the first night you came here, when you were juniors in high school and Cassian convinced you all to come here after the team won the homecoming game. He’s allowed you in all these years, but never lets you cut the line.

Mor leans against the brick wall of the building, shooting you an offended look. You make a face because you’ve seen more people out here crouched and puking their guts up against these very walls. You’ve seen people fondling each other against it, too, and you’re fifty percent sure that Cassian slept propped up against it one night when he got a little too drunk to coordinate a ride home.

 “You just have to get past that part,” she says, and you bite your lip to refrain from mentioning that none of the guys that she’s met online have stuck around. Maybe you should be thankful for that, because she’s the only other single girl in your friend group. It can’t just be you and Cassian as the single ones, because that would ruin your chances even further.

Azriel doesn’t follow you into the line. He notices the smoking area is a waist-high gate and wants to laugh at the security of this place. He bums a cigarette off of a guy who keeps eyeing him, and while the guard at the front door converses shortly with you and Mor, he lifts a leg and hooks it over the fence, easily making his way into the bar.

He slides through the plethora of people, quickly and with the stealth of a lethal predator. He’s been here before on multiple accounts, thanks to you, so he’s familiar with the terrain and knows that you and Mor are headed straight for the bar to order drinks before scoping out the place for your friends.

It’s muggy, musty. The air smells like body odor and alcohol. Everything’s made of wood: the bar, the floors, the walls. There’s a tiny disco ball over a stick floor where the tables have been pushed aside for a makeshift dancefloor that no one uses until two hours before closing when there’s more booze than blood in their veins.

Azriel slides in next to you at the bar, but keeps his back turned away from you. It’s not time yet, but he loves the warmth of your body beside his. Goosebumps break out across his skin when you accidentally brush up against him.

He tilts his head, listening.

“Well…there might be this one guy,” you trail off, and Azriel’s fingers curl into fists.

He doesn’t like the man you’re bringing up one bit. Has dug well into his life, and even if he hadn’t, Azriel would have been able to tell upon first glance that this man is not going to give you the relationship nor the orgasms you deserve.

“Bitch! Tell me now!” Mor shouts, and Azriel can picture the grin curving her red lips. When you open your mouth to speak, your friend quickly cuts you off. “Wait, wait, wait! We need drinks first.” She waves over Rita herself, the older woman greeting the both of you with warm smiles. She waves in your direction, beginning to make your drinks without even asking.

“You know, the world doesn’t revolve around relationships and how many people you’ve slept with,” you huff, and Azriel agrees. It’s not his world, because in his head, his world revolves around you and only you, but he’d support anything that came out of your mouth, especially if it’s in regards to the other men in your life.

“Okay,” Mor snorts again. The both of you thank Rita for your drinks and head away from the bar, thankfully saving Azriel from having to hear about this new conquest that isn’t even a conquest at all if he has anything to do about it.

[24galaxies]

My Home

Story line:- Azriel is sitting next to Elain as you sit by the fireplace reading. You’ve been staying with Azriel, Cassian, and Rhysand for the past two months in Velaris. You’re a mortal but Rhysand says you have different abilities that no mortal should be able to have. For example, winnowing or teleporting. Azriel is in love with Elain Archeron even though Elain already has a mate.

Azriel x Reader

The crackling of the fireplace was the only sound that filled the sitting room. It should’ve been comforting—warmth wrapping around me like a favorite blanket—but tonight, it felt oppressive. Maybe it was because of him.

Azriel sat across from me, his form sharp and precise in the soft firelight, every inch of him exuding the kind of quiet power that left me breathless. As usual, his focus wasn’t on me. He was next to her—Elain Archeron. The golden one. The one with a mate.

I closed my book for the third time in as many minutes, unable to focus with the two of them so close. It wasn’t that they were doing anything inappropriate—Azriel wouldn’t, and Elain…well, she didn’t seem to notice his lingering looks. But I noticed. I always noticed.

I hated how it made me feel. A bitterness that lodged itself in my chest, turning my heart into something small and sharp. I wanted to tell myself it didn’t matter, that Azriel could love Elain if he wanted. But it wasn’t just love. It was something deeper. Something quieter.

And that made it worse.

I stole another glance, careful to keep my movements subtle. Elain was speaking to him, her voice soft and melodic. Whatever she said made Azriel smile—not a big, broad grin like Cassian’s, but a small, fleeting thing. I hated that I wanted to be the one to pull that smile from him.

“Y/N.”

The sound of my name snapped me out of my thoughts, and I looked up to find Azriel’s hazel eyes locked onto mine. My heart skipped, the intensity of his gaze startling me.

“You’re frowning,” he said, his voice low.

I blinked, scrambling to compose myself. “I’m not.”

“You are,” he insisted, tilting his head slightly. “Something wrong?”

It wasn’t fair. That look, that tone—like he cared. Like I was more than just a mortal girl who happened to land in their world.

“No,” I lied, forcing a smile. “Just tired.”

His gaze lingered, like he didn’t quite believe me, but then Elain spoke again, drawing his attention back to her.

And just like that, I was invisible again.

I didn’t stay in the room much longer. The fire was too warm, the tension too thick, and I needed air. Slipping outside, I welcomed the crisp night breeze that kissed my skin. Velaris was beautiful at night, the stars scattered across the sky like shards of silver.

It had been two months since I arrived here, and I still wasn’t sure if I belonged. Rhysand had insisted I was special, though I wasn’t sure what that meant. Mortals didn’t winnow, didn’t teleport from one place to another in the blink of an eye, but somehow I could. And no one—not even the High Lord himself—could explain why.

I let out a sigh, rubbing my arms as I wandered the gardens. Maybe I shouldn’t have come here. Maybe I should’ve stayed in my world, where things were simple and I wasn’t caught up in…this.

The sound of footsteps startled me, and I turned to see Azriel standing a few feet away.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he asked, his voice quiet but steady.

I shook my head, trying to ignore the way my pulse quickened at the sight of him. “Just needed some air.”

He didn’t move closer, but his presence alone was enough to fill the space between us. “You left in a hurry earlier.”

I shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“Interrupt what?”

I glanced at him, biting my lip. “You and Elain.”

Something shifted in his expression—subtle but there. His shadows swirled around him, their movements restless.

“Elain and I…” He trailed off, as if searching for the right words. “It’s not what you think.”

“Really?” I challenged, folding my arms. “Because it looks pretty clear to me.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I thought I cared for her. That she could be—” He stopped himself, his jaw tightening. “It doesn’t matter.”

I stepped closer, my chest tightening. “It does matter. You can’t just…pretend it doesn’t.”

Azriel’s gaze snapped to mine, sharp and intense. “Why do you care?”

The question caught me off guard, and I opened my mouth to respond, only to realize I didn’t have an answer I was ready to give.

“Forget it,” I muttered, turning away. “Goodnight, Azriel.”

I didn’t look back as I walked away, but I could feel his gaze burning into my back.

The tension between us only grew after that night. Azriel kept his distance, but there were moments—fleeting glances, accidental touches—that left my heart racing. It was maddening, this dance we were trapped in.

It wasn’t until Cassian suggested sparring that I found an outlet for my frustration. The training yard became my escape, a place where I could channel all the emotions swirling inside me.

“You’re getting better,” Cassian said, blocking my latest strike with a grin. “But you still telegraph your moves.”

I rolled my eyes, adjusting my stance. “Maybe you’re just predictable.”

Cassian laughed, lunging at me with renewed vigor. I barely managed to dodge his attack, stumbling as I tried to regain my footing.

“Careful,” he teased, winking. “Wouldn’t want Azriel to think I broke you.”

My cheeks flushed, and I glared at him. “Shut up, Cassian.”

“Make me,” he challenged, his grin widening.

Before I could respond, a voice cut through the air like a blade.

“Enough.”

Cassian and I both turned to see Azriel standing at the edge of the yard, his expression unreadable but his tone leaving no room for argument.

Cassian raised his hands in mock surrender. “All right, all right. I’ll leave you two alone.” He shot me a knowing look before sauntering off, and I resisted the urge to throw my sword at him.

Azriel approached slowly, his wings tucked tightly against his back. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” I said, brushing the dirt off my clothes.

He didn’t look convinced. “You shouldn’t push yourself so hard.”

“I can handle it,” I snapped, more sharply than I intended.

Azriel’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, I thought he might argue. But then he took a step closer, his voice softening. “I know you can. But you don’t have to prove anything to me.”

My breath caught, his words hitting me harder than they should’ve.

“Why do you care?” I asked, echoing his question from that night in the garden.

Azriel didn’t answer right away. Instead, he stepped even closer, his hazel eyes locking onto mine.

“Because I see you,” he said quietly. “Even when you think no one else does.”

My chest tightened, and I opened my mouth to respond, but he closed the distance between us before I could say anything. His hand cupped my cheek, his touch warm and grounding, and then his lips were on mine.

The kiss was soft at first, almost hesitant, but it quickly deepened, years of longing and restraint breaking like a dam. His shadows swirled around us, cocooning us in a world that was just ours.

When we finally pulled apart, Azriel rested his forehead against mine, his breath warm against my skin.

“I’m sorry it took me so long,” he whispered. “I was afraid.”

I smiled, my hands tangling in the fabric of his shirt. “You don’t have to be afraid anymore.”

For the first time since arriving in Velaris, I felt like I was exactly where I was meant to be.

Over the next few weeks, everything shifted. Azriel and I found a rhythm, a quiet understanding that didn’t need words. He still had his shadows, his secrets, but he let me in, piece by piece.

Elain…she seemed to understand, too. There was no bitterness, no resentment—only a quiet acceptance that made me respect her even more.

As for me, I finally started to feel like I belonged. Rhysand’s court wasn’t just a place; it was a family, one I was proud to be part of.

And Azriel?

He was My Home.

[solbaby7]

Hi! Could I have a piña colada with a salt rim? And make it neat please 🫶

[“are you crazy we’re in public” “then you’d best be quiet” + smut + azriel ]

Shame on you for being foolish enough to feed a starving animal.

For looking past his threatening exterior, greeting him with kindness and coaxing him closer instead of shooing him away like you were supposed to do with rabid animals. Not offering him the warmth of a home and a bleeding heart with endless love to give. How ignorant of you to assume that offering up warm meals or sweet desserts and soft sheets with fluffy would ever be enough.

Not when the only prize to Azriel—was you.

That greed shows when you’re led along the sidewalk, nudged down an alleyway and pressed up against a brick wall swathed in inky shadows. “Az,” You address him breathlessly, heart instinctively hammering just a little harder in your chest as you register the intimidating loom of his stature. “Baby, what are you doing?”

He nearly laughs, letting free a low rumble of a chuckle that has his wings rustling gently at your sides. “What’s it feel like I’m doing?”

You feel as if you’re melting like ice on a sweltering summer day under his borderline obsessive attention. His touch is possessive against your jaw, tilting your neck to make more room for the claiming kisses that trail down, down, down. It’s impossible not to give into it—to lean into the pressure of his mouth on your skin, his teeth nipping at sensitive flesh and his hands.

Gods, his hands.

All searching and filled with a ravenous need as they graze over the thin fabrics of your dress, tracing over familiar curves until desire overrides rational thought and that soft material is all but disintegrated in his grasp. It takes a second too long to notice that the cool breeze is cutting against bare breasts and by time you do realize, Azriel’s already pinching at perky nipples, sucking marks into supple fat and robbing you of a clear conscious as pleasure zaps up your spine. “Are you crazy?” You weakly scold, arching into his touch when wandering fingers graze scandalously lower. Low enough to slip past the protective barrier of flimsy undergarments. “We are in public—someone could see.”

The very mention of it makes his mouth curl into a wolffish grin; makes him cruel as he runs a thumb through your slit, collecting slick and spreading you open with two deft fingers. “Then you’d best be quiet then, hm?”

“A-Azriel.” You attempt to close your legs but obedient shadows keep you how he wants you; all presenting and pliant before him. “Wait—fuck!” The helpless yelp is silenced by the pressure of his thumb on your clit, rubbing devastating circles that leave your thighs shaking and stomach contracting as you clench around nothing. Rough brick digs into soft skin, catching on silky hair when he’s forced to lean forward to plant a kiss that dampens your desperate whines down to breathy whimpers.

It’s a little messy, teetering the edge of frantic with his teeth nipping at your lips. Tongue tracing over the roof of your mouth while skilled hands fall in sync with the desperate roll of your hips as you chase your high. His cock throbs at the trust you put in him—completely exposed and yet you don’t even acknowledge it when chatting ladies and tipsy gentlemen stumble just a little too close by. If anything, he swears it makes you grind down just a bit harder. Manicured nails rake over the broad line of his shoulders, one leg hooking over his waist for better stability. “More,” You keen, cheeks burning with a blush at the lust in your syllables—the downright indecent sound of your arousal fucking singing against his fingers.

It’s wrong. Improper. Unladylike. Undoubtedly more than a little grimy and yet you’ve never been more turned on. It practically leeks out of you, dripping down the same scarred fingers that keep switching between rubbing and teasingly tapping at the sensitive bundle of nerves between supple thighs. “How quickly your tune changes when I’m touching your pussy,” Azriel muses, tone going dark and misty while his ego inflates fifty times too large from the way he leaves your chest heaving and eyes rolling in the back of your head without even need to pull his cock free from his breeches. “Thought you were worried about someone hearing?”

“I was—I am!” You really really try to hold out, to listen to the very reasonable fears you’d had about being caught but when he makes you feel so good it’s difficult to find the room to give a fuck if some random stranger saw the High Lords shadowsinger guiding you to your orgasm. “Fuck! ‘m gonna—mmph.” A hand smacks over your mouth, teeth biting into the flesh of your palm.

“There you go, sweet thing.” Pleasure simmers on a pot in your gut, its contents boiling and bubbling; fighting the constraints of its confinements until everything spills over. “Feels much better when you just let go, doesn’t it?”

Shame on you for being foolish enough to feed a starving animal—now all it knows how to do is take.

“Don’t fuss,” Azriel commands, the hard length of him finally freed from its confines and throbbing with the desire to carve a space inside you, branding your walls with his name. “Just want one more.”

[thehighladywrites]

- “if it is so wrong, why does it feel so good?”

pairing: stalker/perv!azriel x reader, nesta, elain and feyre mentioned

summary: stalking and perving is azriel’s favorite activities. What happens when you finally drop the oblivious mask and confront him

warnings: dark content, stalking, perving (on literally everyone), breaking and entering, stealing panties, az having a darker side, getting turned on by your fear, az eating you out, reader being bold and hot as fuck omg,

amara’s note: okay this is very short bc it’s my first time writing a dark fic. Also i hope you like it and pls read the warnings.

Azriel knows he is some sort of sick freak. He knows he should resist his sinful glances at Feyre when she's cozied up on Rhysand's lap. He flexes a little extra just to spark Nesta's desires, fully aware of her fantasies. And as for Elain, well, let's just say he's playing a forbidden game of spying while she bends over to plant her greens.

Azriel's is extremely aware he shouldn't be harboring forbidden desires or indulging in the secret pleasure of stalking someone as seemingly innocent as yourself.

Azriel, the ultimate mastermind, keeps everyone guessing. Who would suspect the quiet, brooding and publicly respected spymaster to be a closeted perv and sick stalker? It's his most guarded secret hidden beneath the intimidating exterior.

Little does Azriel know, you're fully aware of his perverse behavior—his wandering eyes and spying shadows. It surprises you that no one has figured him out yet; after all, it seems quite apparent, doesn't it?

You don’t miss his lurking shadows following you around for hours. A regular fae would’ve missed it but not you. You’ve grown accustomed to him and his ways. You know him better than anyone else and you definitely know of his stalker tendencies.

Azriel believes he's smooth, avoiding outright ogling. Instead, he strategically glances at you during training with Cassian and while sharpening his weapons, subtly appreciating the way your body moves.

Pervert azriel walks up to you, complimenting your form, claiming while it’s good there’s something you need to fix. You don’t mind if he needs to grab your waist while fixing your pose right? And of course you’ll excuse him if he accidentally brushes against your boobs and ass. I mean he just wants to help you perfect your form!

He watches you walking through Velaris from the shadows, always hiding one of his shadows with you. He tells himself that he does it for your safety. Who knows, you might be attacked and he needs to be ready.

He absolutely doesn’t want to hear how much of a hypocrite he is for also stalking you in the safety of your home aswell.

Azriel steals your panties, silently breaking into your room as he looks through your drawers, skimming through the collection of panties. He promises himself it’s the last time, though he’s made the same pledge seven times before.

Azriel's stalking tendencies lead him to roam through your belongings, touching everything to become familiar with your world. He goes to your vanity, picking up your perfumes, and indulges in the forbidden pleasure of smelling the one thing he desires most—you.

Lying in your bed, his head on your pillow, he starts shifting in the sheets, inhaling more of your scent. He revels in the trespass and wrongness of being in your bed, knowing that you might catch a hint of his own scent lingering there, a twisted thought crossing his mind that it could confuse, frighten, or even arouse you.

His cock swells at the thought of you scared, heart beating fast, trying to place who the scent belongs to.

He looks around and finds one of your shirts on the bed and picks it up to his nose.

Then he does the one thing he swore he would never stoop to. He pulls out his already hard cock and strokes it while inhaling your scent from the shirt.

—

He has timed you and learned your schedule hence why he now knows that you’ll be in the shower for the next twenty minutes, giving him the perfect opportunity for his perverse activities. He’ll pick up the laciest most intricate pair, keeping it in his room as some sort of trophy with the other stuff he has taken from you. No one can enter into his room anyways, it’s safe…

Pervert Azriel looks through the little crack in your door as you stand there posing infront of a mirror while wearing pretty much nothing. A lacy little lingerie set as you touch your body, hands traveling all over your tits, waist, ass then up through your hair as you spin around, admiring yourself.

You know Azriel is standing at your door, he isn’t really all that subtle with his hand down his pants as he jerks off at the sight of you.

It’s almost enough to make your eyes roll back into the back of your head, fucking gods, he’s pathetic.

You wanted to fuck him for the longest time. He could just ask you to fuck and you’d say yes yet here he is thinking he’s slick as he pervs on you. Even with all that in mind, there’s a sick, twisted adrenaline rush spreading through your body at the thought of the esteemed and highly respected spymaster doing something so dark and wrong like this.

“I know you're there, Az. Come out,” you say, a wicked smile forming on your face as you plot to utterly humiliate him.

His entire body freezes and Azriel cautiously emerges from the shadows, realizing he's been caught. You maintain that mischievous grin, ready to unleash your plan. The air thickens with anticipation as the confrontation unfolds.

“Az?”

He looks like he’s about to jump out of the nearest window as he looks at you through the mirror.

“Yes?”

“Why are you such a disgusting little pervert? Here I am trying on some clothes and you’re just perving on me. How do you think that makes me feel? I mean I could be super afraid and you wouldn’t have any remorse? Who does something like that?”

Azriel's face heats up at the mocking question, flushing as he tries to respond.

“Az, I asked you a question,” you assert, walking over to him. His embarrassment is palpable as he apologizes, rambling about not knowing what came over him, begging you not to tell anyone.

You already know the answer, and a knowing smile plays on your lips as he seeks forgiveness.

“You’ve done a very bad thing, Azriel. Bad people deserve to be punished. You of all people understand that, right?”

Pushing him back onto one of the sofas in your room, you creep closer, leaning over to whisper. Looking down at him, you place your hand on his cheek, letting your nails dig in a little.

“I think you deserved to be punished.”

Azriel's heart raced, fearing exposure for his hidden activities. Was this it? Would you punish him by revealing his actions to everyone?

Before he could plead for forgiveness, you stood up, walking back to your bed and beckoning him over with two fingers.

As he approached, ready to sit, you extended your leg, placing your foot on his stomach, halting him in his tracks..

“Not so fast,” you assert, a wicked smile playing on your lips. “The bed is reserved for me. You can kneel on the floor.”

Azriel complies, gracefully sinking to his knees. His gaze meets yours, his beautiful eyes revealing a mixture of submission and desire.

“You’re going to eat my pussy. If you manage to make me cum, I won’t tell anyone about your disgusting behavior, understand?”

He couldn't believe what was unfolding. Was he really about to taste you? About to experience the fantasy he'd daydreamed about every single day? He nods, but a disapproving tsk follows.

“I need more than a nod, Azriel. Do you understand?”

A quick, “Yes, I understand,” escapes his lips.

You can't help but smile at the swiftness of his compliance.

“That’s good. Now, I’ll be taking off my bra and panties and they’re very expensive and new so they better not go missing.”

Azriel affirms his understanding and then proceeds to drool over the way you slowly strip infront of him before you spread your legs and tell him to start.

He grabs your thighs and pulls you closer to the edge as he dips his head down to run his tounge up and down your slit, tasting you before playing with your clit.

You gasp in pleasure, letting out moans as your hands find their way to his hair, urging him to keep going.

Azriel’s hands dig into your thighs that are currently smushing his head. He decides to let you continue, telling himself that if he dies like this, he'd go down as the happiest person in history.

“T-that’s it, right there.”

A breathy moan escapes your lips as you feel two of his fingers enter you. Your hands grab his dark soft hair as he started pumping his fingers, relishing at the way your soaking cunt is squelching and squeezing him.

You whimper at the way his thick fingers strecth you out then curl against that secret spot, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. You start to slowly fuck yourself on them, eager for more of him.

“You taste even better than I imagined, fuck.”

His desperate voice only spurred you on.

It doesn’t take much longer for that feeling to build up in your stomach, the tight cord eventually snapping. You squeeze and throb around his fingers as you cum hard, letting out whines and mumbles.

Azriel helps you ride out your high, memorizing every facial expression in case this is the last time you ever let him this close again.

He pulls out his fingers and lick them clean then goes back and licks your pussy clean.

You let out a giggle at the sight before you, casting him a look of fake sympathy as you pull yourself together.

“Well, look at that. Seems like I’ll be keeping your secret after all. I mean, what a shame to loose such a good little pussy eater, right? I might just keep you around.”

You beckon him to rise, tossing your underwear onto the sofa before heading to the bathroom to clean up.

Glancing back at his flushed face and heavy breathing, you offer a secret smile.

“Who knows, next time I might even let you fuck me.”

Turning around, you leave him to his thoughts as the shower starts.

Azriel stands there for a moment, his desire evident. Unable to resist, he takes your panties and bra, always craving something of yours.

He promises to himself that he won't do it for an eighth time before hurrying back to his room, to finally help himself

🏷️ taglist: @stasiereads @clairebear08 @daycourtofficial @historiaxvanserra @rowaelinsdaughter @acourtofladydeath @acourtofwhatthefuck @redbleedingrose @danikamariewrites @readychilledwine @nocasdatsgay

[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.”

[yourlittlebunnyy]

a court of shadows and darkness

main masterlist - azriel masterlist - previous

chapter seven

summary: Selaene, Rhysand's sister, Azriel's mate runs away after the High Lord of Spring tries to kill her.

warnings: none

enjoy!🫶

Sobs escape the lips of the three siblings before they can even stop them. Cassian is quick to react: he gets up and hugs Selaene, his face wet with silver from happiness. She feels her heart burst as she holds one of her brothers in her arms. She had not realized how much she missed him before. They remain embraced for what seems like hours to her, but at the same time, not enough time. She hears whispers in the background, a female voice asks a certain Feyre who Selaene is, what she is doing attached to her male. The other female shushes her.

She feels someone touch her shoulder, and when she lifts her head from Cassian's chest she meets Rhysand's eyes. The man smiles at her through tears, and she does the same. Cassian pulls away slightly to give her brother space, but he remains beside her, his eyes fixed on her as if he cannot believe that his sister is here, she is alive, she is safe.

Rhysand and Selaene hug each other tightly, almost knocking the breath out of each other. Cassian takes time to analyze his sister's figure, check that she is not hurt. She is the same as before, the same as four hundred and sixty-three years ago. As if it were yesterday. She is wearing a torn nightgown and a coat that looks like it came from the Winter Court. No, he is sure it came from there. He smells of cinnamon and ashes. But under the smell of the heavy coat he can now smell her own smell, the familiar smell of his sister. That too has remained unchanged: cream and strawberries. Strange, he thinks. He and his brother have remained the same, of course, but their appearance and smell in four copious centuries has clearly changed. They have grown, matured, and their smell with them. Before they smelled like little boys, now like men. And it should be the same for Selaene, should have sharpened her features, should look like a female of almost five hundred years, smell like one. But she has remained the little nineteen-year-old she once was. She does not seem to be hurt, he notices with pleasure.

Rhysand finally pulls away allowing the two to breathe. He seems to study her just as his brother already did. He seems to have the same questions.

“Selaene...” It seems surreal to him to have her there, calling her name and not in front of her grave. He is afraid to wake up. He seems to swallow a knot in his throat before asking her, “We were just about to have dinner, why don't you join us?” The question sounds so distant to everyone, though.

Selaene nods, still a little dazed, and finally seems to take in the rest of the room. There is Mor, of course. Four other females and one male. She sniffs the air, the scent of the two brothers imprinted on the skin of two females. The third simply smells of herself.

While the other two Fae seem to be together. Rhysand snaps his fingers and an extra chair and cutlery appears for her. She sits between her brothers, and suddenly feels shy of all the curious looks. Except for one. The female with Cassian's scent on her seems to be killing her with his gaze and seems to want to incinerate her. Selaene does not make herself look smaller, she keeps her chin up and her eyes resting on her with a calmness that seems to reassure her.

It is Rhysand who speaks first again and introduces everyone to her. “This is Feyre, my mate. I don't know- I don't know where you've been, but chances are you've heard of her.” Selaene looks at her brother and later at his mate. She obviously has no idea who she is, but she seems like a nice person. The girl smiles sweetly at her, and Selaene can only reciprocate with equal warmth. She is happy that her brother has found his happiness, but their bond makes the young woman think of Azriel. She can smell him, but it is very faint, and she would not be able to smell him were it not for the bond, which is still dead. A panic creeps under her skin, and her brother looks worried. He lays a hand on hers before asking her if she was all right.

”Uhm... where, where is Azriel?” Rhysand and Feyre smile at her. Does she know her? Has Azriel told her about her? However, it is Mor who answers. “I contacted him as soon as I saw you. He was on a mission, but now he is on his way. He is well, he has... he waited for you, Selaene.” The young woman wants to cry at the blonde's words. She nods gratefully. This time it is Cassian who speaks, introducing her mate. The sister can do nothing but smile, even more than before, unconcerned that the female has given her a glare of lightning. She seems to realize, slowly, who she really is. The gaze alternates between her and Rhysand, and finally, she smiles kindly at her as well. She offers her hand, and Selaene grasps it.

“I am Nesta.” Her grip is firm and her hands are soft but calloused. A warrior, she thinks. Just like Cassian.

“I'm Selaene, Rhysand's sister.” Nesta nods. Amren is introduced to her. She is slightly surprised, and her face hides a slight smile. She is very beautiful, Selaene thinks. Next to her is her male, Varian. And finally Elain, a sweet rosy-cheeked fawn that Selaene finds adorable.

“So you... you and Azriel?” She asks her as food is served from the House. Just like it used to be. The smell fills her nostrils and she smiles. She missed Velaris. She missed everything.

“Azriel and I are mates.” She answers simply, a tone that hides some possessiveness that makes Feyre chuckle. She pretends not to notice the fawn's slightly disappointed expression, but anger mounts inside her.

“Why?” She asks more coldly. Amren seems to care about the turn the conversation is taking, because she straightens up and hides the feline smile that appears on her face with a glass of red wine. Elain blushes.

“No, of course nothing. It was just to- just to know.” Selaene clenches her jaw, the brothers' faces pure amusement. They remember how she was always jealous. Gods, she was jealous even if one of them got too close.

“And you,” the tone is accusatory, ”do you have one? A mate?” She nods quickly.

“And where is he?”

“Far away. We didn't... We didn't get to know each other properly before.” Selaene smiles at her, a double-faced smile.

“But have you had enough time to get to know my brothers and my mate?” At those words Feyre decides to interrupt Rhys's sister's little jealousy tantrum.

“Don't worry, Selaene. Azriel, although he thought you were dead, has always had eyes only for you.” The Fae seems satisfied with her words, and rests her back on the backrest, her posture rigid now relaxed. She even giggles when she hears Nesta say, “ Possessive Illyrian.”

She looks at the three females and realizes something, too: they are three sisters. She certainly cannot blame poor Elain. The Cauldron was cruel in creating three sisters and three brothers and leaving one alone. But there was Selaene before her. And there will always be Selaene.

“We have missed you very much, Selae.” Says Cassian serving himself.

“You have changed a lot.” She responds by savoring some baked potatoes again. She almost groans when she swallows a bite. The taste long forgotten.

“Are you all right?” Feyre asks her, “Is something wrong?” She is worried.

“Yes, everything is great. It's just that I haven't eaten for a long time...”

Cassian laughingly comments, “Hell, Selaene. But where have you been?” The joke, however, does not make anyone laugh.

“I've been stuck in the UnderWorld.”

The table seems to stop breathing at those words. No one has ever returned from there.

It is Amren who speaks first, her voice charged with distrust: “No one has ever come back from there, girl.”

Selaene, proud as any Illyrian is, has no trouble keeping her accusatory gaze. Did she expect that in front of that Fae she would react the way Elain had reacted to her before? Because she is wrong in case she does.

“I did.” She says with a shrug. “It took almost five centuries, but I did it.”

“How did you keep from going crazy? Alone, in the dark, all that time?” Feyre asks while sipping wine. Everyone is incredibly surprised.

“I wasn't alone....” A motion of sadness, remorse, passes through her eyes. “Rhysand. I would like your help. We need to find my friend, Vanessa. She stayed there.” Her brother hesitates, but he can't bring himself to say no.

Cassian opens his mouth for the first time after hearing the news, “Is that why you haven't grown up?” She simply nods.

“It's also how I haven't starved all this time. I'm still wearing -- I'm still wearing the pajamas I had on that day.” Rhysand and Cassian are saddened, however, it is Nesta who asks for an explanation of what happened that day. Selaene dismisses the matter with a wave of her hand, explaining that she does not want to ruin dinner over something that happened so long ago.

“Someday I will tell you all about it. No, in fact, I'll show you, Rhys. But I don't want to think about it for at least a week. I'd like to at least see Azriel first.” He nods. Then he pours blueberry juice into her goblet. Selaene smiles; he is his usual self. He raises the glass to the air.

“Let's toast to Selaene, then."

Dinner proceeds smoothly. Feyre and Selaene seem to have established a great understanding, and her brother could not be happier: his two most important women getting along. Mor and Nesta also seem to adore her, and the latter in particular seems to love hearing all the embarrassing stories from her brothers. Elain, on the other hand, always seems a little down in the dumps when Selaene mentions her beloved mate.

“I swear to you! He came flying past my house with flowers for our mother in his hand, only there was a blizzard, and the porch was frozen, so he slipped and fainted! He stayed in bed a whole week, and all the flowers went on the floor.” The females laugh so heartily at Selaene's gossip, while the two brothers look embarrassed. Rhysand smiles mockingly before pointing out how Azriel had also fallen. And how he had cried out of worry.

“Yes, but unlike you, Rhysie, he didn't hit his head and faint because he has remarkable reflexes. I was worried about his wing.” Cassian snorts a laugh, getting a friendly pat from his brother on the bicep. Nesta would like to ask her to tell more, but footsteps echo in the air. And Selaene knows those footsteps all too well.

next chapter

[b0xerdancer-writes]

A Second Chance

Dark!Rhysand x Reader

Summary: Rhysand regretted many things he thought. He regretted telling Tamlin about his mother and sister, he regretted everything he had to do under the mountain, regretted some of his actions during the war with Hybern, he regretted having to treat Azriel the way he did with Elain, he regretted not making the ‘for life’ deal with Feyre, and most importantly he regretted not being able to save Feyre and their unborn child durings Feyre’s rough birth. But he would not regret her or the things he did for her.

Word Count: 7,139

Warnings: Murder, Dark!Rhys, Death, War, Grief, Therapy, Manipulation, not proofread we die like men.

Notes: Sorry this took so long, i took a small hiatus for life stuff going on! Hope you enjoy!

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Rhysand regretted many things he thought. He regretted telling Tamlin about his mother and sister, he regretted everything he had to do under the mountain, regretted some of his actions during the war with Hybern, he regretted having to treat Azriel the way he did with Elain, he regretted not making the ‘for life’ deal with Feyre, and most importantly he regretted not being able to save Feyre and their unborn child durings Feyre’s rough birth.

It has taken Rhys and the entire inner circle a long time to adjust to her not being around, Rhys even longer so. He had completely put off court duties and public appearances in the recent months, but after an intervention via Amren he finally dragged himself out of the estate and into the city of Velaris.

Amren had been fed up with Rhysand’s antics and had thrown him a card for a grief support group that had popped up after the war, she had declared that if he wouldn’t go for them that he should at least go for Feyre. So here he was, slinking through the streets of Velaris on his way to the damned widow support group.

It was hosted in a small cafe which explained the drinks and snacks provided, the tables had been cleared to one side of the cafe ans a circle of chairs sat in the center, coffee and pastries lined on the checkout counter, a few females and a few males were gathered in small circles. A female in a floured apron came out of the backroom carrying an assortment of pastries, flour in her hair and on her face as she balanced the overstuffed tray.

Rhys had been debating between the caramel coffee or the chocolate coffee, after all caramel was Feyres favorite but Chocolate was his, when she greeted him. “Oh! My lord! Its great to see you! Please pick whatever coffee you like. Feel free to mingle or feel free to simply take a seat and wait for the meeting to start.”

“Oh. Uh. Thank you.” He nodded grabbing the caramel labeled coffee. “You own this place?”

“Own and host.” She nodded.

“Oh.” He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

She smiled back. “And I'm sorry for yours”

“To be honest, I’m not sure I’d be comfortable with either yet, I don’t know enough people to mingle and can’t sit and twiddle my thumbs.” Rhys shrugged.

“Well you might get covered in flour but you can help me back here.” She suggested.

“I don’t mind some flour, what do you need help with Darling?” The word felt foreign in his mouth but good. Like a step in the right direction.

“Uhhh, if you wanna help me carry the tray of cookies from back there it would be helpful.” She motioned to the doorway behind her with a small smile on her face.

“Gladly.” Rhysand nodded and followed her into the back.

When they returned back upfront, tray of cookies and pastries in hand, the final members of the support group were trickling into the small cafe. Chairs had been arranged into a circle, activities stationed off to one side of the room and stacks of grief management books at a table on the other. She dusted off her hands with her apron and snatched a tea from the counter of drinks and moved towards the group of fae circling around the ring of chairs. Some fae split from the central crowd and split up into smaller groups at the tables of activities and books, Rhysand weighed his options before joining the circular group in the center. Everyone found a seat, a few openings here or there as she had a policy for always having a few extra seats in case anyone found their way into the meetings. The fae gathered around him were from a vast array of characters, and it intrigued him to find all of these people sharing one common factor.

The female he had assisted with the trays earlier cleared her throat before standing and smoothing out her dress and apron, addressing the entirety of the small building. “I would like to welcome everyone to tonight's meeting, a special welcome to those who are just joining us for the first time.”

Her eyes darted to Rhysands figure as she introduced herself to the crowd for those new members, he noted he wasn't the only new one to this meeting: three or four others were new as well. “As many of you know, I lost my mate and daughter to the attor attack a few years back, I sought an outlet for my grief and in doing so found others who had lost their loved ones like myself. So I took to arranging this weekly gathering as a way to help myself and others cope with the loss of loved ones.”

She was a good soul, Rhys thought, every word she spoke conveyed truth and honesty, something in her welcomed him and calmed him. Her very presence calmed the anxious storm in his chest and Rhys welcomed the feeling that had long been absent from his chest. A chorus of replies and greetings echoed back to her, she extended her attention back to the room and offered them a chance to introduce themselves. He recognized none of them, all small shopkeepers and civilians from all over Velaris, all had lost someone close to them.

One girl who had moved up here from the Court of Nightmares had lost her father who was a darkbringer in the recent war. A female who reminded him of Nuala and Cerridwen had lost her brother to an attor. A young male who had lost his baby sister in the attack when a building had partially crushed him and he could do nothing as the toddler female was swept up by the creatures, their parents had long since passed, their mother in childbirth and their father a few months later due to grief.

Then came Rhysands turn to speak. All eyes turned to him, and he felt the prickling of his anxiety nipping at him. He smiled back at everyone sadly with a small wave. “Many of you know me as your High Lord, if you don’t know me by name my name Is Rhysand. I was informed by my closest friends I should attend this meeting as I’m sure all of you know I recently lost my mate, wife, and our High Lady. I lost her to the birth of our son, my heir who passed away as well due to the difficult birth. I lost them both.”

Sad smiles and apologies found his ears as the head female in front of him prompted him to sit again, taking the center of the circle. “I am so sorry you have had to learn the loss of a mate and child, my lord, I am sorry you all had to experience the losses you have but we can work together to get through the pain and grief. We are all here to support each other through this horrible pain. I know many may not want to openly speak about their pain so you are welcomed to partake in the other forms of support we have here.”

With her final comment everyone turned to their projects with a nod and some mumbled thanks. It was towards the end when they spoke about distractions and busying oneself to help cope, it had struck a chord in his brain; distractions could be handy for him he was sure but he couldn’t busy himself with court work or with his close family, he would feel too much of Feyre there. His thoughts drifted to things he could do to distract himself or busy himself, he had lost himself for so long in the thought he had barely noticed everyone beginning to rise and bid farewell to the sweet female who had so quickly accepted him into their small group despite the reason she lost her mate and child being his fault.

He was the last member to rise as she began to clean up the room, gathering the books and journals in her arms; she seemed lost in her own world until he approached her.

“Do you mind if I help with cleaning up?” He asked softly.

“Oh! Of course my lord!” She had chirped back, straining with the weight of the books in her arms.

“Here, let me carry those for you.” Rhysand had taken the books from her arms and hoisted them up against his chest.

She picked up the pens and pencils quickly, throwing them into a small bag. “Thank you my lord, just follow me with those please.”

He had followed behind her with a small smile on his face, she led him towards a small closet that had been filled with cabinets and shelves; she tucked the small box into one of the shelves and began taking small sections of books from his arms, tucking them on one of the many shelves.

He had helped her reset the entire cafe, sweep, wipe tables, and clean up the entire back of the cafe’s kitchen. The moon was high in the sky when she had finally waved him goodbye, the bell chiming above him as he opened the door to step out onto the cobblestone street. The roof of the estate he had gifted to Feyre could just be made out from where he stood outside of her cafe; He had practically abandoned the Estate, instead favoring it for the house at the top of the mountain. It had been awhile since he or anyone in the inner circle had stepped through the doors he considered, everyone had joined him back up at the house or in their own apartments across Velaris.

He had considered something she had said about the memory of the ones you lost, how the only way to cope was to face the memories and accept them. He had taken a deep breath before crossing the street and turning right at the corner where he would have turned left to head towards the steps. The road was quiet and he was a lone soul amidst a sea of grief as the wrought-iron fence that bordered the estate came into view. As if sensing its master the gates slowly creaked open, a picture of stars and swirls that mirrored the tattoos he and Feyre had shared. The fae lights of the estates flickered on as he walked up the small pathway to the grand front door, his breath caught in his throat as his hand made contact with the door handle. As if sensing his hesitation the door opened softly beckoning him to enter, every detail just in the entry hall had submerged him in the sense of Feyre; he felt like he was drowning as he turned out of the doorway and flitted back through the gates, both clicking closed behind him as he manifested his wings and took to the skies above Velaris.

+

Azriel was sitting at the island counter softly sipping on some chamomile when Rhysand had landed on the balcony. He nodded a greeting to the male, taking note of his disheveled appearance and tear stained cheeks. “How was the meeting?”

“I liked it, the host is a very sweet female. I’ll continue with attending.” Rhysand had answered matter of factly.

“She is incredibly sweet, I informed her of your possible attendance earlier this week. She tells everyone her mate was lost in the attor attack and he was but,” Azriel sighed. “He was one of my men, one of my spies.”

Rhysand poured himself a cup of tea from the lukewarm pot. “Sorry Az i know what it feels like when you lose one of your men.”

“It's my fault.” Azriel drew a breath in, “He was trying to get both of them to safety, had his daughter in his arms. I had called to him in a hurry to rejoin the fight. That split second he hesitated at my voice was what landed him in an attor’s grasp.she won't blame me for it as much as I have asked her to and apologized for it, she always says it is no one's fault but the Mother’s and fates. She's a strong female Rhys, I figured you could learn something from her to get you through this.”

Rhys nodded softly, sympathetic for his friend. “I did, even in just one night I did.”

Azriel had turned and raised a brow at him, Rhys just stared down into his cup and watched the steaming liquid swirl in it. “I went to the Estate after the meeting tonight.”

“Oh.” Azriel’s expression turned into one of shock.

“Yeah. She had said something early on in the meeting about only being able to cope with the memory of your lost one is by facing the memory of them. The estate is just down the road from her cafe, you can see the roof from her doorway.” Rhysand tilted his head and Azriel sucked in a breath.

“You went back to the estate?” Azriel whispered.

“I couldn't go inside, I stopped at the door.” Rhysand looked over to Azriel at his side.

Azriel’s eyes held a sad understanding in them as he nodded. “Still, I’m proud of you brother.”

“I think your friend will be a good help to me. I wouldn't have been able to do what I did tonight without her words, her understanding, and her gentleness with me.” Rhys offered Azriel the first genuine smile he’d had since Feyre’s passing.

Azriel offered a smile back and patted Rhys’s shoulder. “Have a good night brother. Love you.”

“Night Az. Love you too.” Rhys turned back to his glass as Azriel slipped from the kitchen and Rhys noted that Azriel had seemed to relax, his steps heavier than they had been for several weeks now.

Rhysand with a small smile downed the rest of the tea and slipped from the barstool, climbing up the steps of the hall and slipping into his bedroom. He had actually managed to get some decent sleep that night, he didn't awake in the middle of the night in a cold sweat and with a throbbing ache in the center of his chest.

+

The next few weeks seemed to fly by as Rhys continued to attend the support group; after each session he would walk to the estate, each time he would make it further and further into the house. On days when they had no sessions or on days, like today, when Rhys just found himself bored but without enough motivation to face the work in his study he would venture down to the streets of Velaris and into the small cafe; extending a hand under the pretense of ‘busying himself for a distraction’ and of course his sweet little shopkeep would accept him in with open arms.

This had become routine now, after several evenings spent baking and making drinks, the first night had set their friendship in motion and both were thankful for the other's steady presence in their lives. The first time Rhys had shown up to the small cafe early in hopes of helping her with setting up, only to find out the meeting had been canceled; she had attempted to inform him but with Azriel gone on a mission and his presence absent at the estate she had no way to inform him without climbing the thousands of steps, yet she gladly offered to let him help her with the evening rush and clean up.

Today had been rather slow, the bell above the door having not chimed for over an hour now, the two of them stood in the back while Rhysand told her stories of the Inner circle. She sat on the metal table, her feet swinging softly and Rhys leaned on his arms beside her; both of them were laughing till the front bell chime brought them out of their little bubble.

“One sec, let me take this order.” She smiled, putting her hand on his shoulder she pushed off the table and slipped through the door separating the kitchen from the front of the house.

Rhys smiled to himself as he heard her voice chime “What can I get for you today?”

The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as he heard the slightest bit of confusion and fest in her voice through the door. “Oh, Eolan! What's brought you in today? The meeting was canceled, I thought I informed you earlier this week?”

Rhys could feel her anxiety and fear in her voice, it made him uneasy and nervous; he knocked softly on her mental shields offering her his concern. ‘Whats wrong?’

‘Eolan, the male who was at your first meeting who lost his little sister in the attor attack, he's here and he seems very angry and on edge, seems to be directed at me. I know nothing further.’ She had answered at his mental caress.

‘Let me know if you feel I need to step in, I’ll stay out of view back here.’ Rhys nodded to himself and pulled from her mind.

He stuck to the wall, and moved slowly towards the door; staying out of the way of the small window he listened in on the conversation just on the other side of the thin wood.

“Are you even listening to me!”

“Eolan, your concerns are warranted and I do hear what you’re saying-”

“No! You dont! How can you befriend him, let him come to our meetings! Knowing what he's done, knowing he has inadvertently caused all of our losses!”

“Eolan, I warn you now. He is still our High Lord. I offer my services to all of Velaris, High Lord included, now Eolan. If you have problems with how I run my business and who I call my friend then you may leave now.” Her voice was firm this time and Rhysand was proud of her.

“You don't get it!” Eolan had barked back.

“I do. But-”

“No. You really dont. You don't hear the talk after meetings, the anger everyone has at you for letting him in. Haven't you noticed less and less coming to the group?”

“It's none of my business why people do and don't come to the meetings I choose to host for the betterment of Velaris, just like how it's none of your business who I choose to associate myself with.” She had gotten snippy with him, clearly losing her patience and it made Rhys smile ever so slightly, plus he had to fight back a snicker at it lest he give his position away.

“Listen Here-” A bang and her yelp blurred Rhys’s vision as he slammed the door open.

He was greeted by Eolan pulling her halfway across the counter, his eyes flitted to Rhys for a split second as his anger turned to fear and he froze. It was easy, Rhys thought to himself, infiltrating his mind, that is; smooth and simple as his claws dug into the pathetic male that saw fit to threaten one of his friends, one of his females with ease.

He raked the talons along the male's mind with the intention of making him let her go, Eolan had begun to tremble as he released the smaller female from his grasp; Eolan found himself frozen in his position and Rhys stalked forward a few steps, his eyes narrowed and she turned to him with worry written on her face.

She took a few steps forward, her hand coming to rest in the center of his chest; pulling him from his anger and making him look down at her in concern. “You okay?”

“I'm fine Rhysand, though I'm sure he's not. You can let him go, I’m sure you've scared him enough to send him running with his tail between his legs.” She huffed looking over her shoulder with a glare towards the other male, her nose wrinkling ever so slightly that it made Rhys note the reaction with the faintest tilt of his lips.

“Plus he’s pissed himself in fear and now I have to clean his mess.” She grumbled distaste visible are her eyes narrowed on the trembling male.

“I'll have it dealt with, we can close the shop for the evening and go have dinner at the house.”Rhys extended the offer.

“I’d love to really but unlike you I can't drop whatever I'm doing, I run the cafe to make money if i close down for the rest of the evening i'll lose the profit.” She crossed her arms, looking up at him with one brow raised.

“You don't have to worry about that, you know? I can order enough food for the house to cover the lost profit if it matters that much.” Rhys countered and she sighed.

“We can have this argument at a later date, when not in front of guests. Seriously though Rhysand you can let him go I doubt he’ll be any further of a threat.” She waved it off watching as the male towering over her pouted like a scorned puppy.

“Fine, I was looking forward to misting him though.” Rhys pouted before turning a pointed glare to the male in his mental grasp.

She rolled her eyes moving around the males towards the doored off staircase that led upstairs to her apartment above, Rhys watched as she disappeared up the staircase until the door clicked close behind her again. His gaze fell back on the male, a darkness lingering there.

“You're lucky she has spare pity for you. Because I don’t. No civilian in my court will threaten another. Ill let you walk this time since you've already embarrassed yourself thoroughly, if this ever happens again though, I look forward to seeing you.” He narrowed his eyes, raking the talons along the malleable thing that was Eolan’s mind, just deep enough that that surface scratches would scar; the slightest everlasting reminder of Rhysand’s threat over the other male.

As soon as Rhys’ talons were out of the other male’s head Eolan took several steps back, eyes wide and his entire body trembling. “You- Your fucking crazy!”

Crazy he might be, but he had taken an interest in the female upstairs and however fucked it mightve been she had struck a chord in him so deeply that the ache of loosing Feyre had lessened. He had lost Feyre, had almost lost both of his brothers to Hybern and other forces on more than one occasion, had almost lost Mor, and had lost Amren for a time; he had almost lost everyone close to him on multiple occasions and was planning on not letting the same happen to her, no matter what he had to do. So if he seemed crazy so be it. If he had to dip into darker places of his own mind to protect her, so be it if she wasn't around to see.

“Well if I’m crazy, so fucking be it, im not letting her come to any harm but you however may for that insult.” Rhys growled, second guessing his choice and Eolan jumped trying to scramble out the front door.

Rhy sunk his talons back into the lesser male's mind, just enough to keep him quiet and still. With a dark grin Rhys stalked across the floor to the closed off stairway, he reached out for the iron door handle, turned to look at the frozen male and called up the stairs; the faint sound of a shower echoing into the empty cafe.

“Darling? How long till you are ready? I want to let everyone know when to expect us.” Rhys called out, holding eye contact with the male across the room from him.

Both males knew whatever her answer was, would be the deciding factor in Eolan’s fate.

“Mmmm,” she hummed, “Probably in about 15-20 minutes.”

Rhys smiled, something wicked and dark in the depths of it. “Alright darling take your time, I’ll be down here cleaning up.”

Rhys closed the door again, a sickly sweet grin on his face as darkness seeped into the cafe from every crevice. When no one could see in or out of the cafe, Rhys took a few steps forward till he was back in front of the trembling smaller male.

“I would apologize for what I'm about to do, but then again I feel it's deserved.” Rhys’s talons sunk their way into the other’s mind and Rhys greeted the other male’s eyes rolling into the back of his head with a sneer.

Misting was never pretty, it was brutal, dark, and savage; but to Rhys it was an oh so welcomed feeling. With a snap of Rhys’s fingers the male in front of him evaporated into a black ash like smoke, Rhys rolled his shoulders and popped his neck; looking at the mess on the floor Rhys simply snapped his fingers again removing any and all evidence of what had happened earlier.

Rhys moved to lean against the counter, finicking with his cufflinks when he heard heels click slowly down the stairs. His head perked up just as the door opened, his darling clad in a shimmery black dress that accentuated all the right curves; Rhys practically purred at the view, she would blend right in with Nesta and Mor at the table, like she had belonged there the entire time.

She took Rhys’s extended elbow, offering him a small smile. Rhys led her out the door, placing his free hand on her own hand clasped on his forearm. “Come darling, I want to show you something before we attend dinner.”

“Alright?”she questioned with a head tilt that Rhys had always found amusing since he had met her all those weeks ago.

Truth be told Rhys had an alternative motive in what he was showing her, tonight had just solidified his train of thought. Rhys took a shaky breath and began leading her down the street.

“Can I get a hint?” She asked softly.

“It's not really a hint but I can offer you an explanation. If that works for you?” Rhys countered.

“I’ll take it.” She giggled.

“I apologize for being the reason you were in danger earlier-” He started

“Rhys-” She attempted to interrupt, but Rhys cut her back off.

“No, let me say my piece please.” He begged softly.

“Ok. Sorry.” She offered.

“No worries Darling, as I was saying. I feel it is my fault you were in danger earlier and I’d like to apologize for that, but I find myself concerned with more than just that male from earlier.”

“Really Rhys, thank you for stepping in but he was no true threat.”she smiled up at him as they turned a corner.

“I wish that were true darling but remember I saw inside his mind, while he might have been trembling in my grasp his true intentions were in fact to harm you if you didn’t comply with his demands.” Rhys looked down, worry on his face and his eyebrows furrowed.

“I thought it was simply a childish farce if I'm being honest.” Her breath caught in her throat as she swallowed the breath stuck in her throat.

“Sadly no, and that's why I wish to show you this surprise. It's my fault you have become a target and thus I feel I should be the one to protect you.” Rhys extended his acknowledgement as he came to a stop in front of the estate.

She raised a brow at him as he led her through the wrought-iron gate and up the steps of the porch. He pushed the door open, leading her into a now barren estate. He stood behind her hands firmly on her shoulders, she looked back at him over the left one with a raised brow.

He had removed everything from the estate in the last week or so, moving it all to the vaults in the mountain underneath the House of Wind. He began to tour her through the empty halls, a shaky hand pressed firmly to the dip in her back.

“I've thought about this a bit, tonight was only a confirmation. I was planning to just extend this invitation present combo to you originally as a thank you for everything you have done for me. Now however, I would like to reword my offer.” Rhys sighed and tucked his chin to his chest almost like he was disappointed with himself and had to steel himself for whatever words were going to fall out of his mouth.

“Honestly, with the events of tonight I would much rather change my offer but the idea is nonsensical and this makes the most sense to me.” He shook his head, disagreeing with himself.

“Rhys, darling, you are rambling.” She smiled softly to him and turned to place a hand just above his elbow as an act to comfort him.

“Thank you darling, I’ll get back to my point.” He cleared his throat. “I’d like to offer you the estate. I moved everything to the vaults but I’d like to take you either to them to let you sort through stuff you’d like to or I can accompany you on a shopping trip. Now I know it is sudden and you are probably wanting to deny my offer, but let me put it this way: I’ve put lots of thought into this. First off I feel bad that the estate is just sitting there and you are in a one bed apartment above your shop that is also your makeshift office, since you sold your other apartment when your mate died. I would like to keep you safe due to my presence being what has put you in danger and I considered having you moved to the House of Wind I realized you aren’t necessarily close to anyone up there yet, besides Azriel but he will be away for the next few weeks, and would have no reliable way to the shop if I was preoccupied with my duties as High Lord. SO, I thought about what I could do about that little issue and it crossed my mind that the estate I was already going to offer you does in fact have an enchantment on the gate so that no one with ill intentions will be able to pass through, Thus I figured it would be the ebay course of action to move you into the estate.” Rhys smiled brightly having finally made his point.

“Rhys, I can’t-” She had started to counter.

“Sure you can, I’m offering so of course you can.” His smile faltered ever so slightly.

“No, Rhys I mean, There's no way I could pay the rent of this place or eleven pay the utilities on it.” She had begun to fiss over the offer, thinking into the little details.

“I’ll take care of it, it is my gift to you anyways.” Rhys shrugged.

“You can’t possibly-” She had started to shut his offer down again when Rhys squashed her with a finger to her lips.

“I respect you, darling, so I refuse to use any of my abilities on you,”She winced at his words. “Which is why I am hoping you just accept my offer now as is so I don’t have to command you too as your high lord. I truly just want to keep you safe since I can't be here all the time and this would satiate my anxiety.” Rhys smiled brightly.

“I- Okay, out of my respect for you I’ll accept your offer of the estate.” She had seemed shocked or maybe taken aback, Rhys couldn’t quite read the expression on her face.

“I’m not trying to be a dick or an asshole or anything, I hope you understand that I do truly want you to be safe.” Rhys gave her a small smile in offering.

“I know Rhys, just thank you it's beautiful.” She gave him a small smile before looking at the grain of the wooden floor.

“Of course darling, now come, we have a dinner to attend. We can begin moving your stuff over tomorrow and then go shopping or perusing the vaults.” Rhys proudly swept her out of the estate and up into the crisp night air.

+

A weight on Rhysand’s chest had been lifted, he had left one crucial detail out of what he had told her. While yes the gate wouldn’t let anyone with ill intentions pass through, it would also inform him of who it was trying to harm her. That information was an important part of Rhys’s plan to protect this new female that had helped heal the gaping wound in his chest.

The first dinner with the rest of his circle had gone well and several months had passed since, Azriel had been just overall ecstatic to see her. Mor and Amren shared some looks between each other but overall accepted her presence in the dining hall with joy especially when the topic of her no bake cookies were brought up, apparently in Amren’s switch to regular fae foods she had a rough time but found herself able to nibble on the cookies after stumbling into her shop one day. Nesta and Elain didn't speak the entire meal, just sat in silence while eying the female in their sister’s spot. Cassian had been standoffish at first, torn between his brother and his mates reactions but had ultimately warmed up to her engaging in chit-chat and batting away Nesta’s elbow to his ribs.

After he had retreated to his study for the evening and after he had walked her back to the cafe with the promise he would be there early to help with the transition to the estate, Azriel and Cassian had slipped into his office; Cassian with furrowed brows and Azriel with a worry in his eyes.

“What's your intention with her, Rhys?” Was all Cassian had started with.

“What do you mean?” He countered with a laugh at the end of his question.

“Cassian made his point to me earlier and as you know Rhys I feel responsible for the position she is in now. So her wellbeing matters to me more than I would like to admit, Cassian and I would like to know your intentions with her.” Azriel had sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Alright fine, sit down. I’ll explain everything to you two.” Rhys growled and motioned to the two leather chairs opposite his desk.

He had somehow laid out his plan for the other two to dissect, thinking neither of the males before him would necessarily approve but to his surprise they exchanged glances between each other and with a nod agreed to assist him. Thus started the long game of assuring the safety of the female all three were sure would become their next High Lady.

Over the next couple months Rhysand eased himself into crafting a love life with her, subtly protective of her shooting glares to anyone that seemed to give them looks when they would walk through Velaris. Everytime he would feel the gates wards surge, an image of whoever was trying to get to his darling would cross his mind. A quick note to Azriel or Cassian, whoever wasn't busy or on a mission, would have the assailant swept away silently in the depths of the night.

It had been over a year before she made any note of the disappearances, and Rhys’s spine straightened when she had mumbled something to him ,about less attendees to their grief support meetings, one evening after cleaning up.

“Have you noticed we have had less people coming to the meetings? I tried to turn a journal into one of them the other day thinking they just stopped coming but even their family said they hadn't seen them for awhile themselves that they had just up and left a note saying they were offered a home in Spring Court now that it's starting to rebuild and needs more citizens. Isn’t that neat Rhys? You never told me that was happening, how could you leave that out of your stories to me? I could have pitched in to offer some of my baked goods for those relocating!” She had scolded as she pushed in a chair and began wiping a table down.

Rhysand’s back was ramrod straight as he let out an awkward chuckle. “Apologies darling, it must have slipped my mind. I thought I had informed you already.”

He was just relieved the lie had been taken seriously by everyone included.

“It's alright darling, you are a super busy and important male you don't need to tell me every detail.” She smiled. “I was just surprised by them leaving without any word.”

He rounded a table and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Here darling let me, I have a meeting with Cass and Az tonight about a debriefing from their most recent mission. Let me walk you back to your estate before I leave?”

She smiled brightly up at him. “Thank you Rhys.”

“Of course Darling.” He smiled back, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I'll be right back, I am going to slip into the bathroom for just a moment darling.”

“Hurry,” she chirped with a laugh “I’ll grab our coats from upstairs.”

In the bathroom Rhys gripped at the ceramic sink with a deep breath he reached out to Azriel and Cassian. Hearing their acknowledgments as he slipped into their minds he smiled brightly telling them to come up to his office for a quick meeting tonight. He felt the two agree and retreated from their minds, washing his hands in the warm water of the sink to give the illusion to her he had done exactly what he said he was doing.

+

Rhysand, Cassian, and Azriel stood in a circle around Rhysand’s desk. Glasses in hand as Rhys informed them the ploy had worked without a flaw. The three cheered before beginning to talk about the next steps in the plan.

“She's been talking less at meetings, mainly just listening and offering her input to others. She's become more distant with scheduling the meetings themselves, letting more time go between them. I think it's only a matter of time before they stop completely. Once that happens then we move into the next step. That's when I'll confess and offer her the position of High Lady.” Rhys confirmed.

The other two males nodded as well, confirming their agreement.

“I don’t like what we have done to get here, I don’t like the sacrifices made but they were made to protect her and I can think of no better place for her safety than by my side. As my high lady.” Rhys downed his glass and the other two yelled their agreement and followed his action of downing the drink.

+

It hadn’t taken Rhys long at all to saunter down to the estate after the meeting with the other two males had concluded, he would stalk up the stairs of the quiet estate and slip into bed beside her; rousing her from her slumber to show her how thankful he was for her to give him a chance, how thankful he was he would get to love her, just like he had done almost every night like it was a routine.

Rhys however, was surprised to find every light in the estate on and even more surprised to find her sniffling on the stairs. His blood raged for a minute before he calmed himself the best he could as he called out to her. “Darling? What's wrong? What happened?”

“I-I think I want to stop hosting the meetings.” She sniffled.

“Why darling? What happened?” Rhys took a few soft steps forward, joining to sit beside her on the wooden staircase, he pressed her ever so gently into his shoulder, one hand rubbing her back.

“People aren’t really coming anymore for one, two I don't really feel the connection to it I once did, and three is that there will soon be something else that requires the energy and attention I'm giving the group.” She choked on another sob and Rhys pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

“What's that love? What’s going to pull your attention like that?” Rhys crooned, his voice as soft as he could make it.

“I- it just feels so wrong like this Rhys, I feel like I betrayed them with this.” She sobbed and Rhys shushed her.

“Ssssshhhh, darling, it's okay you’re rambling darling. What has you so worked up?” Rhys ran his other hand through her hair, an attempt to calm her and himself as his anxiety began to rear its head.

“I- Rhys I’m pregnant. I feel like it's betraying our other halves-” another sob wracked her body.

Rhys joined her in crying, silent trails down his own cheeks. “It’s not darling trust me, Feyre made me promise I’d move on with my life after her. It's the only thing that made me agree to attend your group and I thank the mother everyday for putting you in my path, because I know the mother gives those that deserve it second chances and you darling deserve every single one.” Rhys tried to soothe her.

“You really think so?” She sniffled as Rhys wiped her face.

“I know so, cause she brought me you.” Rhys whispered.

So he would have to move the plan up, the mother worked in strange ways sure, but this was an unexpected turn.

She smiled softly at Rhys as he wiped the last tears from her face. “Marry me then, I'll make you High Lady. Both you and our child will be kept safe and away from harm, you will have everything you want or need, both of you. I- I just want you, no need you, by my side. Please darling.”

“O-okay.” She nodded and sniffled, letting Rhys sweep her up in her arms and carry her to the bed.

He tucked her in softly kissing her forehead before stepping into the closet of his belongings to change into some loose sleeping pants. She had passed out when he finally crawled into bed next to her, pulling her close to his chest.

Yes, there were many things Rhysand regretted but this was not one of them. The steps he took to insure a second chance with the female he now held close to his chest was not something he would regret. The lives he had taken and the minds he had misted to ensure her safety were not amongst that list. Yes, he regretted many things, but she would not be one of them

[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. 

[tadpolesonalgae]

Fear of the Dark

Dark!Ghost!Azriel x reader

synopsis: after escaping from the Shadowsinger, the High Lord provides you with a new home, in a location entirely of your own choosing. One that just so happens to be frequently visited by window-rattling blizzards, and snow so heavy you’ll often find yourself trapped within the supposedly safe haven. But when things begin moving on their own, and shadows stalk your well-lit halls, you begin to think maybe the Spymaster somehow eluded death, too.

warnings: references to implied noncon, dark!az, paranormal events, nonconsensual touching (shoulders, mouth, hip)

a/n: dedicating this to @azrielhours , and inspired by her wonderful Company of Phantoms🧡💛

want to know more?

word count: 1,963

-Fear of the Cold-

It’s been six months since he died in the fire.

Six months of roaring screams echoing through the desolate hallways.

Half a year.

It goes by quickly when swallowed by delusion. Of persistent psychosis.

Of imagined shadows stalking your corridors. Of dragging footsteps just outside your chambers. Of the windows rattling, and not from the sudden blizzards that sometimes hit—seemingly out of nowhere. Unpredictable, and haunting.

Some days you’ll wake up, greeted by the barren landscape or grey skies and greyer rock, and others all that lays there is white. Blinding, dominating white, like a blanket smothering the harsh, unforgiving terrain.

You know why you picked here to be your place of refuge. For complete isolation.

The rocky landscape means no one could stumble upon your house without intention, tucked up in the sides of the rugged mountain, weathered by icy rain and lashing winds that could make the blood in your fingertips recoil in the space of a breath. Cold so penetrating it could snatch the air from your lungs.

Few understand the true horror of the cold.

Absolute, inescapable cold.

Nature’s blade, that could cleave glaciers in two.

With the stormy skies, there is no access by air. Winged creatures staying clear of your northern-facing home. And yet, despite the utter isolation, you’re faced with company.

After not even a week in your new house, the hairs had been rising at the back of your neck. Unexplainable drafts ghosting up your spine, or kissing the length of your throat. Doors clicking shut during the grey hours of limited daylight. Books that fall from low shelves, the chandeliers that swing softly when you enter a room, plates that appear where they hadn’t been left.

It’s rarely dark in your house, but the weight is smothering. Every corner is kept clear of shadow, flame purging the darkness with a quiet conviction that feels almost reassuring. But there’s nothing reassuring about your new home. Forearms almost constantly littered in goosebumps, hairs rising, skin prickling.

Even at night, candles burn away at the dark, eating at every shadow that tries to crawl in from the cold. But it feels like lighting a fire in the barren wasteland of the frozen tundra. Flame blazing with superficial strength, until it melts the snow bowing the branches far above, ice slipping free, and smothering the fire in one smooth avalanche.

The glass is rattling again, deathly cold wind whipping, icy rain lashing down as you try to lower yourself into sleep. But every time you near that precipice, something pulls you back: the groan of heavy wooden beams that creak through your house, flame flickering with dwindling light as if blown by a ghostly breath, a strange coldness rising from the foot of your bed. That seeps into your blankets first, then spreads to your feet. Slowly crawling up your body, until you’re wrapped in the haunting embrace of long-dead arms.

Even fire can’t always clear his kind of dark.

Dark that smothers, and festers. That concentrates in the hollow space beneath your bed, that hides in the softness of your pillow, that lurks in the pits of your pupils.

He found a way inside, and now he’s sunk his claws in. Like hooked blades that disembowel when they’re extracted. You’d have to empty your brains out into a bucket to be free of him.

Even then, your body would remember. His touch memorised into the tissue of skin, his terror embedded in the sinew of flesh.

The window spiderwebs, the distinct sound of fracturing glass dumping icy water over your near sleeping form. Hauling you up from the pit of an ocean, wrapped in seaweed to face the stormy grit of the blizzard outside.

Instead, your attention is sucked in by the ever-shifting shadow at the foot of your bed, chilling wind pouring in through the glass, candles winking out. Swallowed in darkness.

The air is pulled from your lungs faster than the cold can snatch it, sat bolt upright in your still-cooling bed.

The darkness holds no recognisable form, simply clustered together as a writhing mass of overwhelming shadow, but there’s no mistaking who it is. Who lurks beneath those suffocatingly concentrated umbras. Inky and undulating.

You’re frozen to your mattress, an icicle thawing out far above as it drips cold sweat down onto your brow, every breath biting at your lungs, making your throat raw.

It’s dark, and you have no protection as he looms so tauntingly before you, hands trembling as they try to grip the freezing sheets. But you can hardly move.

Air chokes in your throat as the shadowy mass expands forward, encroaching toward the foot of your bed. Your eyes widen with terror, watching as talons of darkness spider-crawl onto your duvet, feet recoiling like hot blood against the cold, knees pulling up to your chest, back pressed against the headboard.

“You’re dead,” you breathe out, air thin and slippery between your lips. “You’re dead. You can’t hurt me.”

Your stomach seizes, lurching as the shadowy tendrils stutter in their movements, like shoulders shaking with silent mirth. You get the feeling he’s laughing. Crawling closer still.

He reaches past your feet, darkness swarming over your knees, and within the cloying night you can feel the weight of hands. Of heavy, corporeal touch. One that sinks into your bones as they tremble with old fear.

“You can’t be here,” you whisper, pressing tight into the cold cushioning of the headboard, head tucking into your shoulders as you try to pull away from his overwhelming darkness, writhing throughout the deathly cold room, his touch like ice. “Leave me…” you breathe, voice breaking.

The weight of a palm weighs into the mattress, beside your hip, tying you in place as the living night, faceless and dominating, swells above you.

Your hand reaches sharply for your bedside table, viciously shaking fingers fumbling with the box of matches, sliding the cardboard out with a last trembling hope. Again the darkness stutters, a shadowy laugh whispering beside your ear, an icy draft kissing up the length of your throat.

The match strikes…once…twice…three time before sizzling into a small lick of flame.

In the few seconds of light you’re afforded, shadow easily melts away, pulling out instead hauntingly dark hazel eyes, piercing as the flame sharpens them. The cold, dead mouth that had once hungrily claimed your own, teeth dragging and prominent as they bit you into pieces. The eerily pale tones of his face, warmth vacant from the smooth planes.

You choke on a breath.

Soft, cruel lips curve at the edge, eyes twinkling with the reflection of your match, before his weight shifts over the bed and scarred, calloused fingers pinch out the flame. Skin that remembers its burn now extinguishing it without thought, freed from its sizzling agony.

You scream into the darkness, sinking down into the false safety of your duvet, hauling it over your head as you tuck yourself tight, trembling violently despite desperate attempts to still yourself. A cry breaks from your lips as you feel himself lower over you, directly atop you, trapped beneath his bulk. A cannonball shackled to your ankle, pulling you beneath a frozen lake, blood icing in your veins.

He shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t be alive.

You heard him die, watched as the flesh slid from his bones, muscle melting beneath the blazing inferno of the house fire.

You smelled it. Could taste it in the smokey air.

“Come out…come out…,” the shadow rasps mirthfully, weight brushing atop the blanket, stroking down your arm, drifting to your hip. Touch biting into bone. “Come out…and play…”

“Go away,” you beg under your breath, squeezing yourself tight, tears burning as they drip over the bridge of your nose, sliding off your face. “Leave me alone…”

The darkness laughs, and your stomach seizes as the duvet is slowly pulled back, dragged firmly from your grip. Numbed fingers try to grapple with the sheets, but he’s so much stronger than you. Just as he’s always been.

“Stop it…” you beg, trying to turn to the side as the blanket is pulled away, revealing his swarming darkness that looms above, with a weight that should not be possible. A spectre should not be corporeal, should not have the right to touch the living. He should have lost that privilege upon passing.

Icy fingertips brush your cheek, and a small cry breaks from your lips, quiet and terrified, eyes squeezed shut in feeble attempts to keep him out as the storm rages.

He dips down, and chilly breath grazes the space beneath your jaw, a whimper pulling from your throat as a broad palm makes its way up your front, settling across your sternum heavily, pressing down on your chest, making it difficult to breathe.

“Please…” you whisper, crying now, “just leave me alone…”

His cold mouth opens over your neck, soft lips sealing over a patch of skin as he tastes you, tongue slowly licking over the junction between your shoulder and neck. Darkness shrouds your bedroom, encasing you in a perpetually cold bubble, sealing out the lashing wind and rain, but trapping you in mist. Thick and impenetrable.

The phantom pulls away, lips grazing your jaw, and even with your eyes closed you can feel his proximity. The piercing weight of his attention as it presses up against your skin.

“Call out for me,” he rasps, voice shadowy and shifting, as if speaking in multiple tones at once. “Call out for me,” he urges, coldness thumbing across your cheek, as if trying to coax your eyes to open. So he can feel their warmth, and their terror.

But you shake your head, teeth chattering as you shiver, shuddering beneath his touch. “Go away,” you beg, “leave me alone.”

A soft puff of breath ghosts over your lips, like a faint laugh, and you shrink back into the mattress while his shadows wrap closer around your body, squeezing like serpents. “Call out for me,” he repeats, his gaze roving over your mouth, parted for air despite its bite.

Hot tears scald your skin as they drip out, peeking open your eyes, as breath is again snatched from your body. A mountain of pressure sitting atop your chest.

He’s as haunting as you remember, cruelly carved beauty, hewn from an ice that tries to be soft, but will only end up flooding if it thaws. Drowning you in his deadly affection. Filling your lungs until they’re close to bursting with his poisonous infatuation.

Hazel eyes flicker as they greedily devour your own, overwhelming and immense as you’re submerged into his obsession. Saturated in his hunger. Starvation so deep it persists after death.

“Azriel…” you breathe, lips trembling around his name, feeling as though its the last line of an enchantment, solidifying his presence, binding him to your own mortality.

Soft lips curve at their edges, a spark of life stolen from your existence. Fed off of, until he’s permanently entwined with your being. Persistent and parasitical.

He hums lowly, approvingly, and you swallow. Fear making you feel sick.

Slowly, as if basking in the descent, he settles his mouth atop your own, snow-soft lips slanting against a frozen stiff set, applying gentle pressure as he savours the feeling.

He still moves with such grace, such innate refinement that between the two of you, you seem the more lifeless. With unmoving limbs, and vacant eyes, you are the more dead.

The shadows pull away, blood gingerly rising to where his touch had been.

“I’ll return,” he whispers, mouth still faintly curved into a soft deception of tenderness.

Flickering night morphs and shifts, dissolving along with the wind.

“Find me in the dark.”

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

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

dark!az taglist: @honeyandhalfmoons

[red-phantom-0]

Run little prey ~

Dark Azriel ff

18+ Content

Tw :stalking , possessive & obsessive behavior, misuse of shadows/abilities , objectification of a person , knife play , predator/prey , yandere themes

Part 2

Edit: tysm for 50 likes !!!!

summary : azriel always appreciates the precious things in life , so of course , when he spots his quaint little prey in an alleyway on the way home , he has to show you and others just how precious you are to him ~

you're fucking mine , always have been , now beg little prey

Azriel couldn't tell you how and when this feeling even started - but maybe it started a few months back when he was just simply roaming the streets of Valaris when someone walked into him on accident , you.

A cute , quaint little thing too - stumbled into him and shyly muttered a sorry before running away . Since then, he's been sickeningly hooked . It's like your presence , your entirety, your being , your bloody mere existence pumps through his cold beating heart.

It's like everything he does now is for you and only you . He wakes up , he wakes up solely to worship you , he kills , he kills to protect you , everything he does is for you . Azriel knew he was far from sane , far from being rational , he knew a sane person would tell him to seek help but fuck the feeling of seeing your warm smile and smelling your perfume everytime you walk pass him in the shadows don't make his heart leap out his chest.

It doesn't help that even his shadows seem to be equally enamored by your being, the quiet creatures always slithering along your ankles whenever you're talking to someone , one always following you home when his master couldn't, something that rarely happened , one of them always tucked in the collar of your shirt when you're on your way to work , always silently reporting to their master about everything you do.

No matter how important or trivial the things are , they always reported to him which lead to tonight. Tonight, he's pearched on a rooftop , observing his little prey walking home. Exhaustion clearly clings onto your figure as you fumble your way down the path. His little prey has been tired because her stupid little boss keeps overworking her , but not too worry , he treats all his precious property with great care so don't worry little prey soon all would be well.

His sharp hazel eyes drink in your figure , a smile creeping up on his face as he observed you . Everything was perfect , his little prey was almost home when some drunk fuck came out of nowhere and started flirting with you . Azriel began seeing all red , without even thinking he winnowed behind the little fuck and swiftly decapitated him with truth tell.

His little prey let out a blood curling scream and began running the opposite direction. Azriel let out a demented laugh, a dark laugh that filled the empty streets of Valris with his own darkness as he chases after you. Adrenaline was practically pumping through his veins as he observed his prey make a right turn down a dead end.

It's okay, little prey . He knows you're too dumb to take care of yourself, much less survive in the real world, but it's okay he's here to take care of you. He meets his little prey huddled in the corner , begging for her life not knowing its doing nothing but increasing his undying need for feeling your cunt.

Azriel coos at your huddled form , shadows slithering up your frame , pinning your hands to the top of your head, and caressing your face . Azriel approaches your trembling frame and holds your chin in his hand.

" Shhhhhh little prey be good for me hmm ?" He murmured. His little prey began babling sorry's and don't hurt me's as she gives him a pleading look that only adds gasoline to a roaring fire . He felt his boner painfully rub against his pants but he couldn't care not when this magnificent sight of you being all cute and quaint for him is far greater .

" Spread your legs little prey " Azriel asks. His little prey parts her legs a little but his shadows force them wider causing her to cry out. Azriel smirks as he hovers over his little prey and like the true predator he is - he flashes her a grin as his hands trail up her skirt , tracing her inner tighs only to be met with a a bare cunt.

Azriel practically moans. " Expecting me little prey ?" He asks as he dips in two fingers in her warm cunt and began scissoring her . His little prey moans out a yes and more , practically bucking her hips on his fingers for more friction.

Azriel only laughs at his little prey causing her walls to clamp around his fingers. " You wanted to be taken like this little prey ? To be fucked against a dirty wall like a slut ? Like my good little slut" Azriel hisses out as he quickens his assault on her cunt.

His little prey only moans as she comes undone on his fingers. Azriel kisses her roughly , his little prey fighting for dominance but easily lost when Azriel bite her lips . Azriel sucked on her lips until it made a 'pop' sound when he removed himself.

Azriel steps back from his prey and watches her with a clouded gaze . His prey wines causing azriel to laugh. A shadow slither up his prey legs with truth teller in its grasp , the cold metal causes his little prey to moan and wither .

" Go ahead , giver our little prey a show " Azriel commands his shadows . Ever the eager to please both master and his prey , the shadow shoved the handle of truth teller into your cunt . His prey screamed and began fidgeting . The shadows holding his little prey held her tighter as the others kept plunging the knife deeper in your cunt .

Azriel watches in excitement as the handle of truth teller is covered in his preys cum . He watches intently as his shadow's began speeding up , plunging the handle further and further . His little prey withers and moans louder and louder and she nears her high.

With one last plunge by his shadows , his little prey comes undone , her cum messily dripping down truth teller and her pretty tighs. Azriel practically holds himself back from wanting to pin her to the ground and eat his prey out but he'll save that for the future.

Azriel approaches his little prey who is now leaning against to wall , breathing heavily . " Good girl " he praises her before pressing a chaste kiss to her lips. His prey just nods at him causing him to crack a smile at her fucked out figure.

" Until next time little prey " Azriel whispers in her ear not before winnowing her back home and disappearing into the dark void he came from.

help what is this

[aphroditelovesu]

can you please write gender, neutral, reader, who has ADHD and the yandere Bat boys from ACOTAR react to reader having ADHD I’ve been waiting for your request to open to request this can’t wait to read it ❤️❤️❤️

❝ 🌹 — lady l: i hope you like it, anon! As a person with ADHD, I wrote it based on my experience and things that happen to me, but I know not everyone is the same, but I hope you enjoy it anyway! ❤️❤️

❝tw: overprotective behavior, ADHD, unhealthy romantic relationships, messy writing.

❝🌹pairing: yandere!bat boys/azriel, rhysand and cassian x ADHD!gender neutral!reader.

Azriel

Azriel deals with your ADHD however he can and tries his best to be understanding and not stress. He doesn't like it, but he can't do anything to change it. Don't get him wrong, he doesn't have anything bad against you having ADHD, as he knows it's not your choice, but he hates that ADHD has you.

He hates that he worries about you so much because he's afraid you'll end up getting hurt because of your lack of attention. He has never met anyone who poses as much danger to themself as you do and it irritates him profusely.

Azriel gets tired easily and to try to have some peace of mind, he will always have a shadow with you, to look after you and report any movement of you and others. Even if you get angry about this, he won't see it as anything wrong since he's just looking out for your safety.

He has always been very protective of you since he has never cared for or loved anyone as much as he loves you and when he finds out that you have ADHD this protection becomes unbearable. Azriel doesn't want anything bad to happen to you and will make sure of it.

Azriel hates it when you cause yourself harm and scolds you vehemently and when you are hurt by his words, he mumbles an apology and pulls you into a hug. He can't stay mad at you.

He tries to be as understanding as possible, like when you forget something or even a date, he tries to think about your well-being and doesn't schedule another date again until he's sure you're okay. Azriel will make sure you are always comfortable with something and, if you take any medication, make sure you never miss it and you will always take it.

Rhysand

If Rhysand could remove ADHD from you with his daemati powers, he would have done it a long time ago. But that's not possible, so he tries his best to take care of you and make sure you're well, fed and safe.

He doesn't like being ignored and when he talks to you, he expects an answer, but he tries to act indifferent when he realizes that you are lost in your thoughts and aren't listening to him. Rhys can't blame you for this, so he always brushes it off and says it's okay when you realize what happened.

Rhysand understands you and is as caring and gentle as possible. The way he talks and acts around you really shows how much he cares and wants you to feel comfortable around him, so he will never say or do something that makes you uncomfortable.

He was always overprotective and that didn't change at all when he found out about your ADHD, but it did increase. Anyone who looks, who thinks, wrong about you will be torn to pieces. Rhysand will not allow any harm to be done to you and any attempt will be dealt with slowly and painfully.

Rhys tries his best to look out for you, writing notes or sending you literal mental notes when you forget something, and, depending on the situation, he will have someone look after you so you don't get hurt. He leaves little notes around the house with simple reminders and some more romantic ones, reminding you how much he loves you and cares about you.

He loves you and is protective of you in the same way he always was, the only change will be that Rhysand will become much more suffocating and will invade your personal space more frequently due to your ADHD, constantly fearing that you will get hurt. Rhys values ​​you a lot, but he doesn't trust you completely and so he has to make sure you're okay and he'll do it his way.

Cassian

Cassian loves the fact that you have ADHD. He knows this may seem strange and insensitive of him, but he can't help but be excited because it makes you more dependent on him in his eyes and he loves taking care of you.

He always loved taking care of you as if you were a child, especially due to your size difference. You will almost always be hidden in his wings and he will be looking at everyone with suspicion. Cassian had become even more protective due to your ADHD.

Cassian tries his best to be understanding and he is very emotional and puts your feelings above him and will take great care not to make you upset, as he hates seeing you mad at him. He is constantly hugging you, because he knows that in his arms you will be safe from all the dangers in the world.

He will always remind you of your chores, leaving notes around the house in places he knows you will look at and will always accompany you wherever you go, to make sure you don't get hurt or end up tripping over something. Your safety always comes first.

If you allow him, Cassian will become your personal bodyguard and follow you around like a puppy. He wants you to depend on him, he needs to protect you, be your hero and he will die inside if he can't do everything for you. It will get to the point that Cassian will offer to carry you anywhere.

Cassian knows it's wrong to think that way, since he knows that having ADHD isn't something easy or cool, but he likes having you dependent on him. He wants to be the only one to watch over you, to protect you and knowing that you have an extra vulnerability makes him ecstatic. He has to take care of you, that's his duty as your mate and as your protector.

[throneofsapphics]

Hi omg sorry yes Cassian x Azriel x Reader, poly dark because you do it so so so well 😭😭😭😭😭😭🙈🙈🙈🙈💕💕💕💕

time is running out

Azriel x Reader x Cassian

Summary: Maybe she shouldn’t have ignored the warning signs, because a familiar nightmare appeared in front of her. 

Warnings: dark/possessive cassian and azriel (they are a bit unhinged), stalking, violence, threats of violence

A/N: thank you for requesting it! I might do a part two

She felt them constantly, and would always spot shadows that seemed to be acting strange, that’s the only way she could describe it. 

Everyone probably thought she was insane for turning them down the first time they approached her. Maybe that was her mistake, because they seemed to delight in showing up in places she least expected. The chase was probably enough for them and they stalked her everywhere. Not a day went by when she didn’t see them, or have a note appear in her kitchen or pinned to her door. Places they shouldn’t have been able to get to, and a reminder of her vulnerability. Over the last few months, she’d moved houses no less than four times. Even leaving Velaris for a secluded city in the far north of the Night Court - a largely populated one, a place she was hoping she could slip under the radar. If she could leave for another Court, she would have but it was nearly impossible. 

The first time she’d gone out in her new home, a week after moving there, she found a nightclub - somewhere to drink and forget about her current situation, she let a male dance with her, even kissed him in a dark corner. The next morning, a drawing was on her kitchen table. One of his likenesses, and a particularly ominous note. 

Next time you let someone touch you, it won’t be a drawing - we’ll leave their head on your table. She sprinted to the restroom and threw up everything from the previous day. The worst part is she believed them, and couldn’t have any deaths on her conscience. 

A week later, apparently they grew tired of waiting for her to agree.

Work hadn’t been too difficult to find and she was employed in a bookstore. She would open every morning, avoiding any dark hours. Nights were spent locked up in her apartment, sleep evading her and nightmares of heads lined up on her counter filling every sleeping moment. Tonics did little, she would always wake up with the image in her mind - as if it slipped in right when the medicine wore off. She would have to wean herself off soon, it wouldn’t do to have an addiction to them. Y/n never understood how people became addicted to them in the first place, but now she did. 

She was lost in her thoughts as she walked the familiar path back home on muscle memory. 

Danger, danger, danger, pricked the back of her mind - on repeat like a familiar record or melody. Then again, it was always present no matter the situation. It haunted her day in and out and she was skittish at the best of times. Always armed, even if she would be useless against the two warriors. 

Maybe she shouldn’t have ignored the warning signs, because a familiar nightmare appeared in front of her, grabbed her before she could react and winnowed her to some location she didn’t know, right into a room where Cassian was waiting. 

With an ear-piercing scream, y/n shrugged him off and ran to the door, jiggling the handle. Locked. She cursed under her breath before taking a deep breath in and turning to them. 

“What the hell?” Her eyes darted around the room, taking in the furniture. Azriel was a few feet away from her, Cassian a pace or two behind him. 

“Welcome home.” The smile on Cassian’s face was genuine. Home? Absolutely not. 

“You’re both insane.” She hissed at them. Azriel gripped her chin harshly, anger flaring in him. She flinched, but couldn’t move, not with the tight grip he had on her. Shadow wrapped around her wrists. They didn’t restrain her, but only reminded her she was at his mercy, at both of theirs. If they truly wanted her there was absolutely nothing she could do about it. Maybe they’d grow tired of her one day and toss her to the side. She’d never been particularly religious but she prayed for it. 

Y/n thought of the last note left pinned to her door with a knife, just yesterday. 

Time is running out love, you’ll be coming home soon. 

There had been similar threats before, telling her she was testing their patience. 

“Care to repeat that?” Azriel raised his brows, taunting and daring her. 

“Fuck you.” 

“Oh you will,” Cassian’s voice floated over her shoulder, and the resounding smirk on Azriel’s face pissed her off. Enough that she tried to do something absolutely stupid. Y/n spit directly in his face. He didn’t react immediately, but she saw the drops glisten on his face, the sun hitting them directly like an omen. 

Instead, he laughed. He fucking laughed. “I knew you had fire in you.” 

The shadows disappeared, and so did his grip. He turned his back to her, moving closer towards Cassian. Probably discussing what the hell to do with her. The door was still locked, but there was a window. They made three mistakes. 

One, underestimating her. 

Two, turning their backs to her. 

Three, not taking her knives off of her. 

She palmed the fighting knives - two of them. Enough to cause a distraction and maybe hit them if she’s lucky. Y/n didn’t really want to kill them, maybe she’d get to that point one day. The knives launched towards non-lethal spots, and her magic shattered the glass window. She didn’t hesitate to leap out, even on the second story, 

“What the fuck?” Cassian’s voice roared from inside. 

Her feet hit the ground, her knees impacting, and she sprinted for the gate, leaping over obstacles, a shield behind her, and as soon as she was out of range, she winnowed - throwing her middle finger up behind her. 

-

They heard the whoosh and reacted quickly enough the knives didn’t hit them, but they couldn’t stop her as the glass broke and she sprinted. 

Maybe they could’ve caught up with her but Cassian was still shocked at her pure nerve. She’d never shown that she had any magic beyond the normal Fae kind. 

Azriel was staring at the spot she disappeared from, his eyes narrowed. 

His filter disappeared as he muttered the words, “are you turned on as well?” 

The other male shot him a look that said ‘are you serious?’ But didn’t confirm or deny it.