noise dept.
h
No title available
Mike Driver
DEAR READER
wallacepolsom

roma★

shark vs the universe

★
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
taylor price

@theartofmadeline
tumblr dot com
Game of Thrones Daily
AnasAbdin
ojovivo
Misplaced Lens Cap

Origami Around
Keni
Sweet Seals For You, Always
seen from Belarus
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from Malaysia

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from Iraq

seen from United States

seen from Türkiye
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States

seen from Italy
seen from Belarus

seen from Türkiye

seen from United States

seen from United Kingdom
seen from Belgium
@dreamkenn
Don't you hate it when you get an extended lore drop on someone involving a convoluted love life that recontextualizes their relationship to you and also they demonstrate a newfound willingness to violate people's bodily autonomy and yours in particular and also they goddamn explode in front of you. This happened to my friend Gideon Nav TWICE
I don’t think Gideon would be able to bench press Harrow. Not because Gideon isn’t strong or anything but because Harrow would start scratching like a wet cat if she was held horizontally mid air.
“i should take a walk for my mental health” boring, tired, i don’t even really wanna do it tbh
“i need to check the perimeter” i need to check the perimeter
Reading Gideon the Ninth and I’m not convinced these ‘lesbian necromancers in space’ are ever going to make out, say they love each other or actually date. I’m getting the sense they’re going to spend all four of these books being utterly deranged in a hundred different ways that have never been done before in an extremely disturbing and lesbian fashion. This is not a criticism, I am very much on board for more of this, btw.
Griddlehark, as lovey-dovey as they ever are <3
A Lesson in Lust
Inspired by a request!
Pairing: Azriel x Fem!Reader
Summary: When Reader fakes an orgasm Azriel has no choice but to teach her not to lie to him, but not with words.
Warnings: smut | 18+ | pwp | dom!Az / Brat!Reader | Brat tamer/taming | cunnilingus | slight impact | slight breathplay | creampie | p in v | overstim | controlled orgasm | clit sucking | slut shaming | slight dollification | there’s so many ts freaky
Word count: 6.5k
A.Note: Please read the warnings!!! This is nasty, literally all smut, mdni.
I should have known better.
Should have known that Azriel, with all his centuries of honed observation and razor-sharp instincts—his ability to read people down to the slightest flicker of emotion—would notice.
I thought I had hidden it well, that he had been too lost in his own pleasure to realize I hadn't unraveled beneath him the way I usually did. That the tremor in my voice, the sharp edge of my cries, hadn't quite matched the ones before. I told myself he wouldn't catch the fleeting moment where my body had tensed but never truly shattered, where my release had been nothing more than an illusion painted for his sake.
I don't even know why I did it. Azriel had always been so attuned to me, so devoted to my pleasure. Maybe it was the exhaustion weighing down my limbs, the ache of an endlessly long day pressing against my bones. Maybe it was the way he had looked at me tonight—so desperate to bring me over the edge with him. I hadn't wanted to bruise his pride.
But he knows.
He doesn't say anything. Not as he cleans me up with steady, reverent hands, the warm cloth dragging over my skin with the same care he always gives me. Not as he helps me into my nightgown, his touch lingering a little longer than necessary. But I feel it. Feel it in the way his hazel eyes darken, their golden flecks burning as they study me in that quiet, unreadable way.
Still, he says nothing. Not when he turns off the bedside lamp, plunging the room into a cocoon of darkness. Not when I turn to him, pressing a soft kiss against his lips in an attempt to quell the unspoken weight between us.
He kisses me back, slow and deep, but his shadows betray him. They curl tighter around his frame, restless like they are whispering secrets meant only for him—secrets I cannot decipher.
He doesn't say anything for a long while. Holds onto the knowledge, lets it simmer beneath his quiet exterior, tucked away where I almost believe it will stay.
For a moment, I think I've gotten away with it.
But when morning comes, the silence finally fractures.
"Why did you fake it?"
5.Kinktober DACRYPHILIA
♡ TW: depressed/melancholic reader, yandere, toxic relationship
♡ FEM reader
You’re always in tears when you come to him.
Little ball of blue that’s soft like dandelion fluff and just as brittle. You turn off the lights when you enter, telling him you want to hide away from the world for a while as you take off all your clothes and seek refuge in his lap like a wounded animal.
The night is dark, the moon is high, and you… You seem to need him like you need air, in his arms, drowning your sorrows once again.
“I’m sorry,” you whimper against his lips. “I’m always such a mess.”
He doesn’t mean to smile—truly, it’s not that he takes pleasure in feeling and seeing and knowing how utterly broken you are. It’s just, it feels nice to know you need him to fix it.
And so, “I don’t mind,” he tells you, feeding you the words with tongue as he takes you by the softness of your hips and pulls you beneath him—fully meaning it, too.
His tongue catches your tears as he kisses you, finding himself digressing and licking them off your cheek, because just like a lot of addictions, though it doesn’t taste particularly good, he can’t stop himself from wanting more.
No, he doesn’t want you any other way—any other way than those needy fists of yours tugging his shirt, pulling him close, and your legs wrapped tightly around his torso. Eyes big and glassy and so terribly hopeless looking up at him, making his heart ache with all sorts of desperation—feeling a deep and vulgar ache to eat you alive where you lie beneath him, so open to let him do it.
“You’re so beautiful…” he confesses—one of the sweeter words he could use to describe you, in favor of all the ruthless ones he much prefers, such as desperate, clingy, helpless. You’re so dependent on him, it makes butterflies rampage within the dark of him. His silly girlfriend, who can never find her place in the world, who just wants to stay in his bed all the time—you’re so adorable he could die.
“Really?” you ask in snivels, making him drunk and horny and fanatic, wanting you all to himself forever.
And so, he gives you a collar of hickies and crowns you the “Most beautiful girl in the world,” knowing it will keep you right where he wants you—right there, with him as your only solace.
♡ BNHA – Shoto, Dabi, Hawks, Shinso, Overhaul ♡ JJK – Geto, Gojo, Megumi ♡ HQ – Kuro, Atsumu, Osamu, Suna ♡ CSM – Aki, Yoshida ♡ BLLK – Reo ♡ AOT – Eren ♡ WB – Suo
♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist
the shyer or more reserved men slowly getting more comfortable with that fact that you're his. grabbing you and pulling you into him without fear of rejection. letting his hands wander without asking. voicing his desire without embarrassment. pressing his hips into your ass without hesitation.
Under the Influence ♡
pairing: dick grayson x fem!reader
summary: when you and dick are left with an extra sedative after a mission goes wrong, you share a little fantasy of yours with him
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, intoxication kink, drugs + drinking, praise + degradation
word count: 3k
tags: @nexysworld @gor3-hound
"I wonder how it feels."
The simple sentence falling from your lips was the start of this whole thing. Dick turned to where you sat at the bar next to him sipping your drink. He raised an eyebrow, trying to determine if that was some sort of attempt at a joke.
"I don't think it's a real mystery," he says and shrugs, "We were basically gonna roofie the guy."
soft, tender shoulder kisses while they fuck you into the mattress in prone bone
I am a huge fan of retiring to my quarters
In this economy you'll be lucky to retire to your nickels
The Things We Keep in the Dark
Pairing: Azriel x Reader
One-shot, Smut with little to no plot [18+]
Warnings: knife play, shadow play, oral s*x (on both parts), face riding, not protected penetration (p in v), fighting, dirty talk, Dom!Azriel, Switch!Reader, (if I forgot something, pls let me know).
It always started with a blade.
Tonight was no different — cold steel glinting beneath the moonlight, the dull thud of boots circling on stone, and Azriel’s golden gaze locked on mine like I was prey he’d already chosen but hadn’t yet decided when to devour.
The training ring atop the House of Wind was deserted, the city far below glittering like stars scattered across a velvet cloth. I moved in silence, muscles humming, sweat trailing down my spine as I twisted and swung. He blocked. Pivoted. Parried. Again.
“You’re holding back,” I said, breathless, catching the flat of his dagger with mine.
Azriel didn’t answer. He never did — not unless it mattered.
Instead, his shadows coiled near his shoulders, shifting like a creature half-asleep. Watching. Listening. Waiting for his command.
I shouldn’t have liked the way they watched me.
But I did.
And that was the problem.
“You’re smirking again,” I said, ducking his blade and aiming a low kick. He caught my ankle mid-air.
“I’m not.” His voice was gravel and silk — soft but scraping. He stepped forward, forcing me to hop on one leg unless I wanted to fall on my ass. “You’re imagining things.”
“I’m trained to observe. You’re definitely smirking.”
“And I’m trained to lie.”
Something like a laugh caught in my throat, but it didn’t make it out — because suddenly, he yanked my leg higher, and I lost balance. I went down hard, blade clattering from my hand. His knee pinned my thigh, one arm caging my wrists above my head, and gods, he was close. Heat radiated off him, sweat and shadows and the kind of tension that made every part of me tighten.
Azriel’s mouth hovered just inches from mine. He hadn’t smirked — but now, he looked like he wanted to do something far worse.
“Tell me what you see,” he murmured. “Since you’re so observant.”
My chest rose against his. His free hand reached for his dagger — not to threaten, but to lift it. He turned it flat and pressed the side of the blade gently to my collarbone.
I stilled.
The metal was cool against my heated skin, slow as it dragged across the curve of my throat. My pulse jumped — and his eyes locked on the fluttering beat beneath my jaw like he could feel it too. His shadows slithered low, almost possessive, curling around my thigh beneath my leathers.
“You’d let me do anything, wouldn’t you?” he asked, so softly I almost missed it.
“No,” I whispered.
But I didn’t move.
He smiled then — not smirking. Real. Devastating.
“Liar.”
The blade slid down to my sternum, stopping just above the swell of my breasts. No pressure. No pain. Just the unbearable promise of what he could do.
Of what he wanted to.
My breath hitched. His shadows stirred again, brushing the inside of my thigh like a question. I spread my legs just slightly — testing. Daring.
Azriel’s gaze darkened.
And then
— he pulled back.
The dagger vanished into its sheath, his body retreating like nothing had happened. Like my skin wasn’t still tingling, like I wasn’t still wet from the brush of his shadows and the look in his eyes.
He stood, offered me a hand, and said flatly, “We’re done for tonight.”
I didn’t take it. I climbed to my feet on my own, jaw clenched.
“You do that again,” I said, brushing off my pants, “and you better fucking finish it.”
Azriel’s hazel eyes lingered on my mouth for one second too long.
Then he vanished into the night.
Three nights later
I couldn’t sleep.
The House of Wind was quiet — too quiet — and I was too keyed up, every inch of me aching with unburned energy. I’d tried to distract myself. A book, a bath, a bottle of red from the cellar. None of it helped.
All I could think about was the weight of his body, the whisper of steel on skin, the look in his eyes like he wanted to ruin me slow.
So I went to the ring again.
Midnight wind howled over the cliffs, but I didn’t feel cold. I needed to move. To hit something. To—
“You never learn,” a voice murmured behind me.
I turned. He was already there, leaning against the archway like some ancient god sculpted from shadow and silent hunger.
“Neither do you,” I said, heart thudding.
Azriel walked toward me — slow, deliberate. His shadows wrapped around his boots like mist, and I hated how easily they obeyed him. How easily I wanted to.
“What are we doing here?” I asked.
“I think you know.”
“I don’t want to train.”
His eyes scanned my body once, lingering at my throat. “Neither do I.”
And then we were on each other.
His hands were on my hips, slamming me against the wall of the ring as his mouth crushed mine. No teasing. No testing. Just teeth and tongue and heat, like he’d been starving for me and I was the only thing that could satisfy it.
I moaned into his mouth, grinding against him — and fuck, he was hard already. I felt it through his leathers, thick and hot and demanding, and my hands fumbled to unbuckle him, desperate and shameless.
Azriel grabbed my wrists and pinned them to the wall.
“Slow,” he growled.
“You’ve made me wait long enough.”
“I’m not rushing this. You want me to use the blade again?”
I shivered.
“Yes.”
His lips curved against my neck. “Then behave.”
He dropped to his knees.
I gasped, grabbing his shoulders as he tugged my leathers down and off, peeling them like a second skin. His shadows slid in to help, teasing over my thighs, brushing my entrance.
When his mouth finally touched me — I nearly screamed.
Azriel ate like he had all the time in the world. Like he was memorizing every tremble, every whimper. His tongue circled, pressed, licked into me slowly, possessively — while his shadows held my legs wide, my arms above my head, keeping me open for him and only him.
“Fuck, Azriel—”
He groaned into me, and the vibration sent stars behind my eyes.
I rode his face like I was drowning and he was air, one hand tangling in his hair as his shadows slipped lower, curling between my ass cheeks and teasing just enough to make me writhe.
My orgasm hit hard — hips jerking, legs shaking. He held me through it, licking me slow as I came down, not stopping until I whined from overstimulation.
Then he stood.
His mouth glistened. His eyes were molten.
“Your turn,” I said hoarsely, sinking to my knees.
I knelt before him — still trembling from the orgasm he’d just wrung out of me, still high on the taste of his shadows dancing over my skin. My legs ached, my throat was dry, but I wanted more. I wanted him.
Azriel stood still, silent as a mountain god, watching me with melted gold eyes. His cock strained against his leathers — thick, leaking just enough that it had left a darkened patch. I reached up, unbuckled his belt with hands steadier than I felt. Each movement slow. Deliberate.
“I’m not breaking,” I whispered.
His head tilted, shadows curling around his shoulders. “You look like you already have.”
I smiled — wicked and slow — as I pushed his leathers down just enough.
His cock sprang free.
Hard. Thick. Veined. Long. So long. The tip was flushed, slick, perfect. My mouth watered.
“I’m going to ruin you,” I said, wrapping one hand around the base, giving him one firm stroke.
Azriel hissed through his teeth. “You can try.”
He didn’t touch me. He let me do what I wanted — which made it worse somehow, the stillness in him coiled like a viper. A male who knew his power and didn’t need to flaunt it.
So I used mine.
I licked the head first — just the tip — teasing my tongue around the slit until I felt him twitch in my palm. Then I licked lower, dragging the flat of my tongue down the underside of his shaft, savoring the weight of it. His cock jumped again, and I smiled against it.
“Stop teasing,” he growled.
But I liked teasing.
I took him into my mouth slowly — inch by inch — until he hit the back of my throat. I gagged a little, swallowed, pushed farther. He grunted — one hand finally tangling in my hair, not forcing, just there. Anchoring.
“You feel— fuck—”
I moaned around him, letting the vibration buzz through his length, and he swore again, this time in Illyrian.
I didn’t stop. I bobbed my head, sucked harder, used my hand where my mouth couldn’t reach, twisting at the base just as I hollowed my cheeks. His hips started to move — just slightly — a shallow thrust that betrayed how close he was to snapping.
“Don’t stop,” he said, voice hoarse.
I didn’t plan to.
But his shadows had other ideas.
They slid behind me, brushing between my thighs — again — teasing my sensitive, still-throbbing core. I gasped, and in doing so, nearly choked on him. Azriel pulled out instantly, hand cupping my cheek.
“You alright?”
I nodded. My eyes were glassy. My lips wet. I had never wanted someone like this — not like a lover, but like a fire I wanted to throw myself into.
“I want more,” I said, licking my lips. “All of it.”
Azriel’s shadows curled tighter.
And then — he stepped back.
He pulled a small, narrow blade from the sheath at his side. The one he’d pressed to my neck before.
My breath caught.
He walked around me slowly, until he stood behind me. I was still on my knees, bare, flushed, wet.
“Hands behind your back,” he said.
I obeyed.
He crouched behind me — close enough to feel the heat of him on my spine. I felt the kiss of the blade first — the flat edge sliding up my back, lifting strands of hair away from my neck. I shivered, but didn’t flinch.
“You trust me?” he asked.
“With the blade?” I said.
“With all of it.”
I turned my head to look at him. “Yes.”
Azriel kissed the back of my neck — just once — and that simple act made me ache.
Then the blade slid forward, tracing my collarbone, down to my sternum.
“I could cut the strings of your soul,” he whispered, “and you’d thank me.”
“I’d beg for it,” I said.
He hissed. “Fucking hells.”
The blade trailed down to my stomach, then lower — a whisper over my hip bone, the curve of my thigh.
Then he flipped it — pressed the hilt between my legs.
I gasped.
“Look at you,” he growled. “Dripping. Just from my shadows and steel.”
I whimpered, grinding against the cool hilt shamelessly.
Azriel’s hand snaked into my hair and pulled my head back gently.
“I want you on my face,” he said. “Now.”
I turned, breath ragged, eyes wide. “You want me to—?”
He was already lying back on the stone, wings spread, cock still hard and glistening against his abdomen.
“Ride my face,” he said. “I want to feel how sweet that cunt is when it’s smothering me.”
Mother Above, I moved.
I climbed over him, straddled his face slowly — and the second his tongue touched me again, I shattered.
He licked me like a starving man, his nose buried in my folds, tongue flicking my clit with practiced precision. I ground down against him, moaning loudly, openly. His hands cupped my ass, guiding me, pressing me harder against his mouth.
The shadows came again — swirling around my nipples, teasing them into hard peaks. I was overstimulated, overwhelmed, undone. My thighs trembled, my head fell back—
I came again. Loud. Wet. Shaking.
Azriel drank every drop.
When I finally collapsed beside him, gasping, he turned his head and said, “You think that was everything?” he asked, voice low and rough.
I smiled, dazed. “You mean you’re not done?”
“Not even close.”
He flipped me onto my stomach in one fluid movement. His cock pressed to my soaked entrance — ready, thick, desperate.
He leaned over me, one hand braced beside my head, the other steady on my hip. His voice was gravel-soft in my ear.
“Tell me you want this. Say yes, and I’ll give you everything.”
I turned my head just enough for our eyes to meet. “I’m yours,” I whispered. “I want you. I need you.”
He slid in slow. Deep. One inch at a time.
And fuck, he was huge.
I arched, groaning, clawing at the stone as he bottomed out.
Azriel leaned over me, mouth at my ear. “Now you’ll feel what my shadows already know.”
Azriel filled me slowly — a deep, grinding thrust that split me open in the most delicious way. I gasped, clutching at the stone floor beneath us, my cheek pressed against the cool surface as his hips met my ass.
“Fuck,” he groaned against my neck. “You feel…”
He didn’t finish. He just growled — low and hoarse — and started to move.
Slow at first. Purposeful.
Each thrust was a stroke of fire — thick and hard and dragging against every nerve inside me. My thighs were already sore, my body slick with sweat, my skin tingling from the memory of his shadows and tongue.
But Azriel wasn’t done with me.
He braced his hand beside my head, his other palm sliding beneath my waist to lift my hips just enough — angling me perfectly. When he thrust in again, I yelped.
“Right there?” he asked, voice rough, amused.
I nodded furiously, barely able to form words. “Don’t stop. Please—”
He didn’t.
He pounded into me with a brutal rhythm, all control gone, shadows writhing around our bodies like living threads of heat and silk. Every sound he made was raw — panting curses, moans that turned into snarls.
I wanted to crawl inside that sound.
His name tore from my throat as his fingers reached around and found my clit — rubbing tight, perfect circles that made my vision blur. The pleasure climbed too fast, unbearable.
“Azriel, I’m— I’m gonna—”
“Cum for me,” he ordered. “Let me feel you.”
I shattered.
Everything went white — the force of it so intense I collapsed beneath him, body convulsing around his cock. My pussy clenched so tight it pulled a broken groan from his lips, and he faltered, losing pace.
He didn’t stop thrusting. If anything, he slammed deeper.
Azriel’s rhythm became frantic — harder, rougher, until I could hear the slap of skin on skin, the wet sounds of my arousal coating him. His breath was ragged at my ear.
“You feel so fucking good,” he growled. “So wet. You were made for this. For me.”
He pulled out — just in time — and flipped me again, dragging my legs over his hips as he lined up and slammed back into me from above.
I cried out — overstimulated, sensitive, but hungry for more.
He kissed me — messy, deep, open-mouthed — as he fucked me through my third orgasm. I arched beneath him, nails digging into his shoulders, tears leaking from the corners of my eyes from the sheer intensity of it.
And still, he didn’t stop.
“You’re going to make me cum,” he hissed. “Where do you want it?”
I whimpered, biting his jaw. “Inside.”
His body shuddered.
“Fuck— are you sure?”
“I want to feel it. All of it.”
That did it.
Azriel groaned — long and broken — as he pushed in deep, buried to the hilt, and came. I felt it — hot pulses flooding me, his cock twitching deep inside as his body trembled above mine.
It was devastating. Beautiful.
He stayed there for a long moment — panting against my neck, shadows curling around us both like a blanket. One of his wings draped protectively across my body.
I stroked his hair gently, kissing his temple.
“I didn’t know shadows could be this… tender,” I murmured.
“They’re only tender with those they trust,” he replied, breath warm against my skin.
We lay tangled together, a sweaty, spent mess of limbs and pleasure and silence. His scarred fingers found mine, lacing them together over my stomach.
“You really didn’t hold back,” I said with a breathless laugh.
“I don’t when it matters,” he said simply.
He looked down at me, eyes half-lidded. “You’re not going to walk straight tomorrow.”
I smiled. “Good.”
His shadows hummed in agreement.
After a while, Azriel sat up, muscles rippling as he stretched. He reached for the blade — still gleaming faintly nearby — and sheathed it again with reverence.
“Do you want to go another round,” I asked, voice hoarse, “or are you finally satisfied?”
Azriel gave me a look that made my whole body tighten.
“Not even close.”
And just like that — he pulled me into his arms again, shadows rising like smoke around us.
This time, it was slower. More intimate.
But no less intense.
Because with Azriel — the dark wasn’t something to fear.
It was something to worship.
A/N: My first smut!!! Hope you guys like it, and if you do pls let me know in the comments.
Dividers by @sweetmelodygraphics
Subspace // Batboys x Fem!Reader
Summary: Azriel introduces Rhysand and Cassian to Subspace, with your help, of course.
A/N: Please make sure to read the tags before reading. Specifically for the breathplay aspect, as it's nearly to the point of passing out. This is also a reminder that this is a work of fiction and not a way to teach fetishes; if I have described anything wrong, then I apologise; this is just my interpretation of a specific scenario. It is not real. Please stay safe out there if trying different kinks, only practice with those you trust!
Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, fluff, Polyamory, Mates, creampie, size kink, dom/sub undertones, rough sex/oral, restraints, praise kink, masturbation, subspace (!), discussion of safe words, multiple orgasms (!), crying, overstimulation, fingering, breathplay (!!), nearly passing out, cum eating, past emotional abuse (ex), aftercare
Words:6.4 k
my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link
Lessons In Discipline II
pairing: Cazriel x Reader
word count: 3.6k!!
warnings: SMUT, 18+, spanking, shadow bondage, use of a gag, blow job, daddy kink, edging, —oh god what else uh— Azriel’s kind of mean ig, oral on female, biting, hickies, p in v penetration, let me know if i forgot anything 😅
a/n: i’m not sure what demon possessed me to write this but i’m starting my period so we’ll blame that. and who let me write a threesome as my first smut EVER? i was stressing fr but i hope it’s good *bites nails nervously* i also added some fluffy aftercare at the end. enjoy!!
Part 1
Shadows bound your hands to the foot of the four-poster bed, positioning you to stand before it, facing the wall. Azriel and Cassian were behind you, but you couldn’t see them. You tried to focus on the painting above the bed, waves crashing into rocky cliffs under a full moon, but your body was fully tuned in on what the Illyrians could be doing behind you. The heady scents of all of your arousal filled the room, only amplifying the heat that’s overcome your body. Your breasts rose and fell with heavy breaths, the anticipation and fear for what was to come overwhelming you.
Azriel had silenced you with a gag, telling you that apologies were useless and that he’d decide when your mouth would serve a purpose.
You heard movement behind you, and a shiver ran down your spine as something traced its way down your back. A sharp smack to your ass had you gasping, nearly choking on your saliva.
“I’m very disappointed in you, angel,” Azriel chastised, dragging the riding crop up the side of your thighs. Your knees nearly buckled at the sudden adrenaline rushing through you. “I thought I would come home to my good girl and we could have some fun together, but instead I have to remind you how to behave. Who you belong to.”
Your whines were muffled, the urge to apologize on your tongue but it was useless. He couldn’t understand you. It was exactly what he wanted. He knew you would say you were sorry and beg for him to forgive you, but you had gone too far. He didn’t want to hear your pleas. He wanted you to take it.
A Lesson in Lust
Inspired by a request!
Pairing: Azriel x Fem!Reader
Summary: When Reader fakes an orgasm Azriel has no choice but to teach her not to lie to him, but not with words.
Warnings: smut | 18+ | pwp | dom!Az / Brat!Reader | Brat tamer/taming | cunnilingus | slight impact | slight breathplay | creampie | p in v | overstim | controlled orgasm | clit sucking | slut shaming | slight dollification | there’s so many ts freaky
Word count: 6.5k
A.Note: Please read the warnings!!! This is nasty, literally all smut, mdni.
I should have known better.
Should have known that Azriel, with all his centuries of honed observation and razor-sharp instincts—his ability to read people down to the slightest flicker of emotion—would notice.
I thought I had hidden it well, that he had been too lost in his own pleasure to realize I hadn't unraveled beneath him the way I usually did. That the tremor in my voice, the sharp edge of my cries, hadn't quite matched the ones before. I told myself he wouldn't catch the fleeting moment where my body had tensed but never truly shattered, where my release had been nothing more than an illusion painted for his sake.
I don't even know why I did it. Azriel had always been so attuned to me, so devoted to my pleasure. Maybe it was the exhaustion weighing down my limbs, the ache of an endlessly long day pressing against my bones. Maybe it was the way he had looked at me tonight—so desperate to bring me over the edge with him. I hadn't wanted to bruise his pride.
But he knows.
He doesn't say anything. Not as he cleans me up with steady, reverent hands, the warm cloth dragging over my skin with the same care he always gives me. Not as he helps me into my nightgown, his touch lingering a little longer than necessary. But I feel it. Feel it in the way his hazel eyes darken, their golden flecks burning as they study me in that quiet, unreadable way.
Still, he says nothing. Not when he turns off the bedside lamp, plunging the room into a cocoon of darkness. Not when I turn to him, pressing a soft kiss against his lips in an attempt to quell the unspoken weight between us.
He kisses me back, slow and deep, but his shadows betray him. They curl tighter around his frame, restless like they are whispering secrets meant only for him—secrets I cannot decipher.
He doesn't say anything for a long while. Holds onto the knowledge, lets it simmer beneath his quiet exterior, tucked away where I almost believe it will stay.
For a moment, I think I've gotten away with it.
But when morning comes, the silence finally fractures.
"Why did you fake it?"